First Knight
by Asha Dreamweaver
Summary: BtVSLotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she’s to help the King of Gondor get on his throne.
1. A Girl From A Different World

**FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

**Summary:** BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

**A/N:** This is set during BtVS season 7 and covers some of Aragorn's earlier years as well as the War of the Ring adventures.

Buffy Season 7: set just after Dawn, Buffy's friends, Giles and the Potentials kick Buffy out of her house, telling her that they want Faith in charge and that she is not wanted anymore.

**P.S:** - This is the revised version.

**CHAPTER ONE: A GIRL FROM A DIFFERENT WORLD**

"'_Tis not too late to seek a newer world.  
Push off, and sitting well in order smite  
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds  
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths  
Of all the western stars, until I die…  
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will  
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."  
-Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson _

_The Vineyard, Sunnydale, CA_

As Buffy touched the magnificent scythe, pulling it from the stone even as Caleb raced through the trap door to stop her, she felt the cool metal heat up under her fingers and a sense of power rush through her veins, along with an instinctive knowledge that this was hers. She felt powerful, strong enough to take on Caleb and kick his butt for a change. Turning to face her enemy with a slow smirk spreading across her face, fully ready to kick his very annoying ass out of her town, no one was more surprised than she was when the weapon of the slayer, her very own birthright, began to glow of its own accord, encasing its wielder in mere moments.

Eyes round and goggling, Buffy saw the shimmering glow encase her with growing dismay. Desperately, she tried to drop the scythe, forgetting all about Caleb, but some force would not let her and with a feeling very akin to terror beginning to spread through her, she vanished from the wine cellar with no warning, leaving Caleb to stare at the spot where she had once been.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Buffy's next memory was waking up very disorientated, lying on a white marble floor. Clutching her pounding head, she dragged herself up onto her elbows and since her head was not swimming too badly, she proceeded to get to her feet. With a long suffering air of 'why me?', she studied the room she found herself in. It was very large and absolutely everything was made from white marble. God, which idiot had been the decorator? she wondered, looking around for someone who could tell her what was going on or else someone she could pulverise. Either was good.

A familiar voice from behind her caused her to jump and spin around, "Hello again Slayer," Whistler said cheerfully. "A right mess you've got yourself in this time, eh?"

"Whistler!" Buffy growled, hands clenching into fists, "What are you doing here? And speaking of that, where is here?" she demanded, gesturing to the expansive room.

"You're currently a… guest of the Powers." Whistler said, eyeing the livid blonde somewhat cautiously, "They sent me to speak to you about a certain proposition they have and the choice that lies before you."

"Oh please, not with the cryptic again!" Buffy ground out, trying to decide whether it would be worth it or not to wring Whistler's scrawny little neck, "I've had too much of that already! Do you even _know_ that I was so about to kick Caleb's ass! Finally! And you made me miss that!"

The balance demon just glared at her, "This is a matter of life and death you know. The least that could be expected from you is a little respect here!"

Buffy picked up the scythe and absently played with it, manfully resisting the urge to take Whistler to pieces with it. "Fine, say your piece so I can get to the bit where I rip your ribcage out."

"Buffy," Whistler said seriously, "The Powers have sent me here with a proposal for you."

"Sounds ominous. Not that they've been much help lately." she replied flippantly.

"Buffy, listen to me. They are offering to get rid of the First for you." he said, perfectly seriously.

The Slayer immediately went shock still. Eyes as wide as saucers locked onto Whistler's, "What!"

"If you swear allegiance to them, they'll make sure the First is dealt with." he replied, leaning against a stone pillar while the slayer regained her composure.

"Swear allegiance to them?" she hissed, "What the hell do you mean by that? I'm already the slayer. Isn't that enough for them? Or perhaps they take the Watchers' Council's view of me kowtowing to them? 'Cos it isn't going to happen. Now, what do I have to kill for you to accept that? Mess with someone else's life. You _don't_ own me."" Buffy exclaimed in a combination of frustration and anger.

"Buffy, the only reason the First chose now to attack was because of an unforeseen event. You weren't supposed to sacrifice yourself for Dawn but you did." he explained patiently, "But then your witch friends brought you back and disrupted the balance and the First took its only opportunity to get free. Don't you see? Your resurrection allowed the First to break free…"

"You mean the First is only here because of me?" Buffy said, reeling. Had all this been her fault? All those girls dead and dying?

"Yes, your watcher knew but chose not to tell you. If they hadn't brought you back, the First could never have crossed into this plane."

"So how does it stop? Do I die again or what?" Buffy demanded, growing increasingly upset. How on earth was she going to fix this? Was it not bad enough that she was torn out of heaven, out of this world where fate ensured that she fought for her life every day, but now she had to help destroy this world too? Could she ever do anything right?

"No, you can't go back to where you were. You're needed elsewhere." Whistler said somewhat sadly, fiddling with his atrocious brown hat.

"Huh?"

"A friend of mine will explain everything to you. I'm sorry to say that you don't really have a choice in the matter. It's a pity; I always thought you had spunk kid."

"Wait!" Buffy cried as he walked away, hurrying to catch up, "Where are you going? What's going to happen! You cannot just tell me something like that and then up and leave!"

"Slayer, someone's got to explain to your friends." Disappearing into some hidden door, Whistler left Buffy standing there; her mind reverberating with the implications of Whistler's words.

How on earth was she supposed to fix this?

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

A melodious voice from behind startled her once more, and within a second, she and the scythe were in a defensive position, ready to lop someone's head off. God knew she needed to vent some steam. "I mean no harm," the person said but Buffy just gaped at him. Her slayer senses were warning her that whoever this was was not human, not in the slightest, but strangely enough, they seemed quite content. There wasn't anything screaming 'danger' like when she sensed a demon. In fact, if she didn't know better her senses seemed to consider him pretty much harmless. But just by looking at the way he moved, she could tell he was a deadly fighter and in her opinion, most things that weren't human wanted her dead and so she resolved to be on her guard.

He was perhaps one of the strangest things she had ever seen in her varied career as a slayer. He looked so utterly perfect it was eerie; she could not make out a single scar at all. He seemed to possess an almost otherworldly beauty that she hadn't ever seen before. It almost gave her the creeps.

The man was tall, over six foot, with glossy long dark hair with two locks at the front held back in braids, pale skinned and with pointy ears. He almost seemed to glow a little too, though that could have been the weird lighting. It wasn't as if the Powers were above trying to appear more impressive and all knowing by using parlour tricks. And let's not forget to mention the fact that he's wearing some mighty impressive armour, Buffy thought sarcastically. If she had to fight him, that was going to cause all sorts of trouble. "Who are you?" Buffy asked menacingly, lifting her weapon, "And species would be nice to know as well Mr. Medieval."

He laughed. Buffy glared harder. "So you are the Vampire Slayer," he said with a trace of amusement, "I had expected someone… bigger."

Buffy had a most annoying flashback to her first time meeting Angel, her ensouled vampire of an ex-boyfriend and his remark that she hadn't been what he expected either. "Look," she said with more patience than she really felt, "I'm angry, tired and my home has turned into a battlefield. I've also had a most unpleasant conversation with a guy who can't talk without the cryptic. Now you're here, Mr I'm-not-human-but-are-probably-a-closet-Star-Trek-fan, insulting my height and making me very annoyed. So if you have something to say, you'd better do it real snappy before I introduce my new toy to you," she said, brandishing the wickedly curved blade.

"The Valar were right," Mr Medieval said, eying her in a most disconcerting way. She glared right back; there was a hint of authority in his voice that told her he was used to ordering people around and considering he was supposed to be Whistler's 'friend', she wasn't altogether inclined to trust his word on anything. "You're perfect for the job."

"Job? What job? And who the heck are the Valar? And backing up buddy, I still haven't got your name." she said, waving the blade for emphasis.

He gave a small little half-bow, "I, my lady slayer, am Ereinion Gil-galad, last High King of the Noldor in Middle Earth. I see Whistler neglected your education. If you do not know, I am one of the Elder." Seeing her puzzled look, he sighed and elaborated, "An Elf. And you know the Valar as the Powers That Be."

"An Elf?" Buffy repeated incredulously, "Like in Santa's little helpers? A little on the big side aren't we? Plus feudalism kinda died out a century ago. And I've never heard of this 'Middle Earth'. Might you want to stop lying already?"

He shook his head in confusion, "I do not know this 'Santa' of which you speak Lady. I am only here as the Valar's emissary in a matter of great importance."

"Right. Let me guess, Whistler's friend?"

He grimaced slightly, "Acquaintance only, I assure you."

"Okay, what do you want then? I do want to get home some time today you know." she said huffily, tapping her foot in annoyance.

"I am afraid Lady, that it is highly unlikely you will return to your home again." he said, taking a step closer.

"What! Oh come on, you can't keep me here forever you know. I am the Slayer. I do have a job to do. And some friends I would like to get back to!" Buffy cried.

"I was sent here to talk to you and talk to you I shall." he insisted authoritively.

Buffy eyed him suspiciously, "I'm not going to get anywhere till I listen to your little speech am I?" A half smile was her only answer. "Fine, talk. Don't expect me to pay too much attention though." she answered airily.

"Whistler has spoken to you about the First yes?" After a nod from her, Gil-galad continued, "Your revival from death released the First, but your death will not send it back. But a re-alignment of the slayer line will."

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, curious despite herself.

"The First can't be destroyed Slayer, but it can be contained." His bright gaze pinned hers and she somehow knew that he spoke the truth. Call it intuition, she supposed. "The Slayer Faith must be made the sole slayer in this world. She must restore the line of inheritance between the slayers. But you stand in the way of this. As I said, your death will not fix things. But your transferral will."

"Transferral?" Buffy asked, not liking the way this was going.

"You are, like it or not, a champion of the Valar. If your death will solve nothing, then they have decided you must come to my world and leave your own behind."

"Okay! Now you're talking crazy. I'm not going anywhere!"

Gil-galad wasn't fazed, "And would you rather your friends to die? Because they will if the First is not stopped. Already they have suffered much, have rejected you. Would you not welcome the chance for a new life, free from the shackles of constant hunting, of being one of the few who holds back the darkness? Do you not want a better life? "

Buffy could not deny the temptation of what he offered but stood firm, "Real life is not like that. And I have responsibilities… Dawn…."

"Your fake sister? It is a stretch to call her kin at all. And has she not rejected you? Turned her back on you? She has no loyalty to you, and her fate is not to be in your hands. It lies elsewhere. As does yours."

"Yeah well Mr Hotshot King, you're talking a lot of nonsense and my patience is running out over here. Don't make me kick your ass back to Bottom Earth or wherever you came from."

"It is called Middle Earth. Though I do not dwell there anymore. And it needs the help of a slayer. A war is coming. One that if the side of good loses, it shall never recover from. You are needed there."

Buffy smiled annoyingly, "And you're delusional."

In the blink of an eye, even before her enhanced senses could register it, he was across the room and holding her by the arms, armour clinking gently as he shook her. His grip was so strong; she could literally feel bruises beginning to develop. "Will you not listen to a word I say!" he exclaimed, his ancient gaze trying to sear through her as he towered over her, "You are dead if you stay! All your friends, dead! Your town destroyed! The slayer line obliterated! The Valar have a most generous proposal for you, you who has shattered so many of their plans so badly as to render them useless! If you go against the First, it will win and you will lose. And your friends shall perish with you. They will guarantee that the First will be thrown back into the abyss and that your friends and the one you claim as sister will live and will be protected from Caleb's wrath. Your part of the bargain will be to journey to Middle Earth to help in the Dark Lord Sauron's fall."

"Sauron?" she enquired but he silenced her with a well-aimed glare.

"Hush and listen. That will be explained later. You will not have to confront him directly. Indeed, you are forbidden from it. Sauron is not one whom a lone warrior can kill and his armies are not to be taken lightly. There are two you must protect above all; the ringbearer - be quiet, you will find out the details later - and the Heir of Isildur, High King of Gondor, who you must help regain his throne. You are to aid those fated either to bring about Sauron's final fall or to die in the war against him. Only time will tell which will occur. You do this for the Valar and in return, they will grant the boon I have mentioned."

Buffy wrenched herself out of his hold, "So what you're saying is that if I don't agree, me and my friends are dead!" It came out in a half-sob which she fiercely tried to repress, and which the Elf didn't comment on. This was rather lucky for him, because she would have whacked him over the head with the scythe if he had. "My, what choice. But then again the Powers were never known for their sense of decency or fair play now, were they? I mean, they were just so generous giving me their little 'choice'! What choice! I have none! So they just expect me to go skipping off to this other dimension just because they say so!"

His voice was soft but firm and slightly pitying, "You will do so because it is your duty. And the only chance you have to escape the misery that is life as the Vampire Slayer and ultimately, escape their fate."

She acknowledged his words with a nod but an expression of deep bitterness and anger was clear to see on her face. "I gave my life for them twice and this is my reward. It sucks beyond belief."

"That is often the way of things." he agreed. "I too died. I fell fighting Sauron."

"Then how come you're standing here buddy?" she asked.

"Because the Oracles are dead, Whistler is busy helping to save your friends and it is my cousin who will receive you in Middle Earth."

"Cousin?"

"The Lady Galadriel, ruler of the Elven realm of Lothlórien. She will accept you into the Golden Wood and tell you all you need to know for your new life."

"Simple as that, huh? And how exactly will dear old me be getting there? And what about my friends?"

"Whistler will inform them of your death defeating the First. Once gone, you cannot return. It is better that they think you dead, than mourn you as lost. And as for getting there, you will go through a portal specially made for you. I think you will like my cousin; she is very wise and sees much. And the Golden Wood is very beautiful."

"So when do I go? Do I get to say goodbye first or see my friends or something?" Buffy asked somewhat tearfully.

Gil-galad looked at her in one of his rare moments of prescience, "You will do well in Middle Earth. I think once you are settled you will be happy there and you will do more good than you know. But to more practical matters. You leave… now."

A blinding portal erupted in front of her and Buffy looked to Gil-galad, "Wait! Don't I get to see my friends!"

"I'm sorry Slayer, you must go now. Don't worry for those who love, they will be well taken care of." He gave her a push into the portal and the last thing Buffy heard was him wishing her good luck.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Third Age 2070. Lothlórien._

Buffy landed on her back with a thump, a string of not so complimentary words on her lips and her vow to take that Elf to pieces if she ever saw him again. The grass stains on her clothes did not improve her mood either.

"A star shines on the hour of our meeting Buffy Summers," a musical voice addressed her from behind. "Welcome to the Golden Wood."

Buffy turned to look but had to turn away as the glowing figure approached, blinding the slayer. When she looked again, she saw a tall, regal woman (or was it Elf? Couldn't they at least have told her _something _useful before, oh, she didn't know, _tossing_ her into a portal!) with shining blonde hair that fell to her waist, a long white dress and impossibly intent blue eyes that were currently trying to see through Buffy.

"Um, hi?" the slayer tried, getting to her feet and belatedly trying to wipe the grass stains off of her clothes. God, did she feel short. She hoped all the Elves weren't this big. "You wouldn't be Mr. Me… um, sorry Gil-galad's cousin by any chance, would you?"

"Yes, I am Galadriel, Lady of the Golden Wood." She replied, making no secret of the fact that she was studying the new arrival.

Buffy nodded, "Okay, glad to have got that cleared up. You wouldn't mind filling me in a bit on what exactly I'm supposed to be doing here would you? Your cousin, ever so kindly, decided to go with the 'let's-toss-Buffy-through-a-portal-with-no-explanations' method of getting me here."

Galadriel laughed, high and tinkling like a silver bell. Buffy was starting to feel a little out of her depth here. After all, she was stuck in a strange new world with someone who was clearly very powerful. And laughing at her. Let's not forget that. Did she mention that she was starting to get _really _annoyed too?

"Come little slayer," she said, ignoring the way Buffy bristled at the term 'little', "We have much to talk about and then much to see."

Buffy followed her retreating figure as the Elf Lady made her way back to the forest where Buffy seemed to have been deposited. The further they walked, the more Buffy's jaw dropped. Lothlórien was probably the most spectacularly beautiful place she had ever seen. The trees were huge with silver bark and golden leaves. She could already see where this place got its nickname.

As they reached the heart of the realm and its city, which Galadriel said was called Caras Galadhon, more and more Elves could be seen. All tall, all devastatingly pretty and all staring at her; this little human girl following their Lady into one of the most heavily guarded realms in Middle Earth.

Galadriel stopped at a huge tree, and turned to her companion. "I hope you are not afraid of heights, for all our dwellings are in the trees."

In the trees? Surely, she couldn't mean….

Buffy looked up and could make out the shapes of what looked like very big, very elaborate tree houses. And Galadriel wanted her to follow her up there? Oh boy. Giving the she-Elf a wan smile, she grabbed the rope that seemed too flimsy to support her weight and began to climb.

She followed her guide into a richly decorated room, high in the enormous boughs of the tree, and sat down in the seat Galadriel gestured to. "I know you have many questions," the Lady began, "And I will try and answer as many as I can. But first I must begin with dark tidings, and tell you of the enemy of the Free Peoples of Middle Earth, who is once more in ascension."

"This Sauron guy, right?" Buffy said, leaning back into the surprisingly comfortable seat.

"Yes, he is the Dark Lord and wields terrible power." Galadriel went on to explain about the Rings of Power and most importantly, the One Ring, which had been considered lost for many years but that few among the wise believed to be truly gone. After giving her a quick run-down on the ways and peoples of Middle Earth, Galadriel grew more sombre, "And now we turn to the matters that are yours to handle. And to inform you of your place in this world. You did not come here unchanged."

"Don't tell me the portal fried my circuits again, 'cos that's really annoying." Buffy said, folding her arms across her chest, "Or is this one of Whistler's annoying tricks where it's like open season on Buffy?"

Galadriel shook her golden head, "I do not understand your speech Slayer. But I shall clarify things, the Valar have decided that you need aid when it comes to locating and helping your charges. And so they have gifted upon you the Sight. But beware; it is not something to be taken lightly."

"The sight?" Buffy asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Some Elves are gifted with foresight, I myself am one of them, and they have extended that same gift to you, even though you have no Elven blood within you."

Buffy nodded, taking it in her stride, "It's not going to interfere with my slaying is it? Because I think it might be quite inconvenient if I 'saw' something while fighting."

"That is up to you Slayer." Galadriel answered enigmatically. "But now to explain what your charges are…"

"Oh goody," Buffy muttered sarcastically but the Elf only shot her an amused look.

"You are not to strike at Sauron directly, you have not the strength. But you are to make sure that if the One Ring is found, it must be kept in safe hands until it is destroyed. I know not how its lure would affect a slayer, but I fear it would gather a strong hold on you ere long due to your familiarity with the dark things in the world. Do you understand my warning?"

Buffy did, all too well. "Yes, it's going to think I'm one of the bad guys if what you said about it having a mind of its own is true. I'll try not to do a Faith."

"And now to your second agenda, the Heir of Isildur is the only one who can unite the race of Men, who at the moment stand divided and leaderless, old alliances broken and with not enough strength whilst separate to hold back the Dark Lord's forces. Consequently he must survive until it is time for him to claim his throne." Galadriel broke off and stood up, beginning to pace slowly, "He does not want the burden. He does not think he is worthy. Aragorn, Arathorn's son, is a stubborn man but he will do what is right. You must help him gain his throne and keep him alive until the true war begins."

"Sounds great." Buffy remarked, "What am I? His personal bodyguard?" she said, getting angrier, "Did they really have to _drag_ me away from my _home_ because I have to _baby-sit_ some guy!"

Galadriel locked her bright gaze onto Buffy's, something Buffy was really starting to hate about Elves, "No, you are here to help Middle Earth. This is to be your home for the rest of your days. I would hope that you would not wish to be under Sauron's rule, more than any other creature in Middle Earth, save those that have served him in the past."

"I fought for seven years to keep my town safe. It got blown up, threatened with apocalypses and hit with all sorts of nasty things," the slayer replied wearily, blonde hair falling to cover her face as her shoulders drooped, "Friends of mine died. _I died!_ Then, suddenly I'm told that I will never see again because of some whim of the stupid Powers! What's fair about that! Don't go lecturing me on responsibility because I already have enough of it!" Buffy cried.

Galadriel was sympathetic but firm, "To be a slayer is to be alone. You should be grateful for the chance to have such friends, even if only for a while. It was more than what your predecessors had."

"Thanks so much for that, she-Travers. So how am I to find this Aragorn, son of Arathorn guy?" she asked brokenly.

"He is a ranger. The Chieftain of the Dunedáin. Find the rangers and inevitably, you will meet him. From there, it is, again, up to you. But that course, whilst easiest, would take too much time for Aragorn has been abroad in Rohan and Gondor for many years as the man called Thorongil and currently he is in Gondor, serving as a captain in the Gondorian army under its Steward, Ecthelion II. We will help you get there. Do not worry."

The Elf Queen crossed over to the distraught slayer, "Do not be sad Buffy. One life has passed, a chance for a new one lies before you. And in this venture, you will always have the help of the Elves, and shelter under these boughs. Come; let me introduce you to the wonders of the Golden Wood and the River Nimrodel."

Buffy stared at her for a long while, trying to figure her out but despite her efforts, could detect no lies. And so Buffy followed her lead into the new life promised to her.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

She stayed with the Elves of Lothlórien for four months, learning the ways of her new land and the Elvish customs that most rangers at least knew of, as well as learning the new styles of fighting and the use of the new (or old to her mind) weaponry used there. The Elvish longbows posed huge problems to one of her height as most of the Elves had a foot over her in height and none of their spare bows were suited to her, being too big.

She was known as to friend to Galadriel, and that title meant an almost immediate respect from the other Elves who revered her as the most powerful she-Elf. Of course, Buffy ran into trouble almost immediately. She could not tell them of her task because it would only get back to the Aragorn guy, so only Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel knew her true purpose here. To everyone else she was just a wannabe ranger.

And as Celeborn so aptly proved upon her introduction to him, she was a constant source of confusion to them. Especially her name.

"Buff-ee? That is a strange name my Lady." Celeborn had said as he tried to pronounce her name with some difficulty.

"Well, it was a spur of the moment thing according to my mother." Buffy shrugged. The Elven Lord hadn't been any clearer about its origins after that 'explanation' and when Galadriel said that like her purpose, her name would be a little… out of place and that she would be gifted with an Elvish one for an alias. Celeborn had only been too happy to think of one, if only to save him from pronouncing her real one, as like all the Elves, he seemed to have a great difficulty saying something so unsophisticated so instead of Buffy she was 'Lady Aralle' meaning 'girl from outside' or 'stranger'.

Buffy was surprisingly happy in the Golden Wood but the day came when Galadriel, her newfound friend, summoned her to the mirror grove and she knew that the peaceful days of training and fighting with her other friend Haldir, were coming to an end. Time with the Elves had changed her, made her more prone to just thinking as the Firstborn indulged their love for songs she couldn't understand and she'd had a crash course in Sindarin and 'proper' etiquette but Galadriel had called her there to tell her it was time to go back to the world of Men.

"Buffy, it is time." Galadriel said, confirming her suspicions, "Aragorn fights in the wars of Gondor and will need your aid. I have talked with my daughter's husband, Elrond, Lord of the Elven realm of Rivendell, and we have both agreed that the best way for you to get close enough to Aragorn to help is to go in as a healer. In times of war, they are always needed and it shall enable you to move with the army without suspicion or undue censure."

"But I don't know how to heal wounds! Inflict them, yes! Heal, no!" Buffy exclaimed.

She held up a hand to stop Buffy's protestations, "Elrond has agreed to teach you. You will spend the next few months with him, learning the craft."

"What fun," Buffy commented dryly, already envisioning her most likely spectacular failure in such a venture. "Oh hell, I'm not going to be graded am I!"

"You must leave tomorrow and so I took the liberty of having some things prepared for you. For one thing, you cannot leave the safety of these borders without having weapons and so I had some made for you." The Lady gestured to a nearby stone table upon which the aforementioned weapons lay and Buffy felt her breath catch.

Like all slayers, she was partial to weapons. The deadlier the better. But one thing she'd found and liked about Elven craftsmanship was that they were both deadly and pretty and so she'd coveted them ever since she'd first seen them. Galadriel had given was a long knife of Mithril with her given-name Aralle, written on the handle in scrolling gold script and an inscription was engraved onto the blade, which Galadriel translated for her as Buffy had had only time to learn a rudimentary form of Tengwar, the Elvish script. 'Gûd daedheloth, Dagnir i thang im' was written, meaning 'Foe of Morgoth's Realm, the Slayer of the enemy throng I am.'

Next to it was a sword, again of Elvish make and in the Elvish style, meant for those who could move fast enough to swing the long blade round in viciously quick movements for maximum damage and it's hilt was long enough to allow for either a one-handed or two-handed grip. Buffy swung it around experimentally and was absurdly pleased with it, compared to the other more inferior swords she had used in the past. If only she had had this sword when fighting Angelus, she wouldn't have come so close to losing.

The last weapon was one of the banes of her existence, a bow and a quiver full of arrows. She'd longed for a crossbow but had been informed by Haldir that that particular weapon was more commonly used by Easterlings and unless she wanted the rangers she would meet to shoot her on sight, she had better find an alternative. Ergo, the bow. But this one was of a size to suit her and she had seen all too well how far Lórien arrows could go.

The last gift was held in Galadriel's hands, a short coat of mail to be worn under her over-tunic and upon taking it, Buffy found it to be lighter than it looked. "It was my daughter Celebrían's," she explained, "She has sailed West and has no need for it anymore."

Buffy thanked her profusely for the gifts but the Lady only smiled and laughed at her. "You are like a child at times Aralle," she teased. "Now go to Haldir and say your farewells as you leave soon. And a bag of clothes and provisions has been left in your talan. Fare ye well, young slayer. The dreams will come to you tonight."

In her excitement to show off her new toys to one soon to be ambushed Marchwarden, she did not take any notice of the Lady's last words.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

That night, she slept restlessly, plagued by some unknown demons. And in her dreams, she saw a great war and a beautiful white city being laid siege to by some of the most hideous creatures she'd had the misfortune to see, but had fought and slain some of their kind under Haldir's tutelage, the Orcs.

She saw villages being slaughtered, saw a fiery mountain and a desolate land and she saw a golden ring, with letters like fire on the band and last of all, she saw a man. Heir of Isildur, rightful King of Gondor and the man she'd been sent there to protect…

A man, who in her dreams, was dying….

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**A/N:** Please **review**! Pretty please? Feedback of all kinds welcomed. Please give me some response! This fic is pretty much planned out but let me know whether you want me to continue it or not! Please?


	2. The Woman In Green

**FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER**

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring? 

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A/N: Wow, I'm so flattered. Nearly fifty reviews for one chapter! Thanks! 

And FYI, Thorongil is Aragorn in disguise, for all those who didn't know. 

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Review responses:

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. - Thanks for pointing out the typo. It's meant to say 2970 not '2070'. 

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Andrea35 - You flatter me beyond belief. To be compared to Mouton's fic, which is simply the best BtVS/LotR crossover that I've come across, is wow! And the air quotes around 'escort' were a nice touch. In later chapters, you'll find that a certain King-in-exile's ideas on the matter differ greatly from a certain slayer's…

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Anon - I'm hoping this is an original take on a BtVS/LotR crossover. 

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Catlimere - More is lined up in her future than she knows. And she has a shot at happiness, if she can find the courage to take it. You get to meet Elrond in this chapter as well. And whoever said the world was fair? At least that's my view on things. 

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Dagashi - Oh, that would be giving it away wouldn't it, if I answered that question? Here's a clue though, Buffy's as mortal as she's ever been. *laughs evilly in background*

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DiscordantDragon - Buffy didn't get to keep the scythe. It was meant for the Slayer line in her world so it went bye bye. 

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Dustie - Buffy gets the sight to avert disasters in the offing. She can't be asleep all the time. 

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Eile igen Briain - Thanks! I hope to keep this story unpredictable!

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Erak - yeah, it sucked but after the way they treated her, being abandoned without warning was the least they deserved. And I am honoured to be on your fave stories list!

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Erin Cybele d`Etoile - I know, the whole situation between Buffy and her betrayal by her friends really upset me. She deserved so much better than that after all she'd been through and the knowledge of what she had to look forward to (ie. Early death) that was her only future at the time. 

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Erro - I hope the cat doesn't claw, scratch or bite…

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Geminia - Buffy's reactions will be covered in flashbacks and dreams. There will be Aragorn/Arwen. *grins slyly* Who Buffy will be with will become fairly clear soon… 

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GwEnDoLyN P. MaLfOy - Thanks so much for the offer. Here's the update, as requested… 

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Lottie - It's always nice to know when someone thinks you've written a character well…

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Mebririth the Butterfly Queen - It's cool that you know your name in Elvish!

N/A - Wish granted. 

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Naurolim - I totally agree with you. I thought what Buffy's friends did to her was beyond cruel considering how many times she's saved them, and died for them, over the years. And to top it all off, they had the audacity to kick her out of the house that she owns!

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Pam - You're very astute about the ships. And yes it is gonna be specific. Sorta. Is Buffy Immortal? See my answer to 'Dagashi' above. 

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PrincessOats - Yes, there will be pairings beyond Aragorn/Arwen. 

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Renna - See my response to 'Dagashi' for the answer to Buffy's mortality/immortality. 

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Rift Blade - Yes, that would be rather interesting…

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Scarlett Eve - I hope you're still alive…

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Shadow Master - Good question! Yes, Buffy lost her scythe in transit to Middle Earth. It was meant for the Slayers in her world so she couldn't keep it once she left. And as for fleshing out the background, I planned to jump right into the story instead of building up background and will be incorporating flashbacks of her time with the Elves and her early years in Middle Earth throughout the course of the story. 

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ShawThang - Yes, Buffy's reactions and feelings will be covered in more depth as we go along…

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Star - It starts about fifty years before the Fellowship is formed. This is when Aragorn is posing as an ordinary man and has already served King Thengel of Rohan and at the time Buffy lands he is serving Steward Ecthelion of Gondor, posing under the name Thorongil (Eagle of the Star) in both cases. 

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Stix89 - Writing the summary is nearly harder than the story. Especially with the word limit. 

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Twilight Unicorn - Wow! Did I mention I loved 'Immortality's Gift'? 

Major thanks to: 

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Anna, AJaKe, aleviel, Brazen1, Delphine Pryde, Emma, gaul1, Jade, Jeni Black, jennzabell, Jess S1, Korinna Myorin, Krys, Lady Phoenix Slytherin, lel1, LostMarbles, Oklina, Sarenity, sean, Starvixen1, Sudy, and Tkiwi.

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CHAPTER TWO: THE WOMAN IN GREEN 

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2971. Minas Tirith.

Buffy spent over nine months being put through rigorous training by Elrond, who seemed to be quite fond of her, but still all too willing to give her more work in her time with him than she had received in all her years of High School. 

At last though, she had been deemed skilled enough to heal professionally. An accomplishment she was rather proud of, considering what she had to put up with. Elladan and Elrohir could be just _way_ too annoying when they put their minds to it. And apparently they missed having an Edain to play with, so in absence of their little brother, she was the one that got pranked in his stead.

It was a view that had exposed the twins to many a slayerly rage in the time she had spent there. Elrond didn't bother correcting him, stating that it was good exercise for the twins and that he found it an altogether too amusing sight when Buffy chased his wayward sons through the valley. 

She had been sad leaving the Elvish haven, knowing that her time of respite had come to an end and that she would now have to embroil herself not only in wars, but in that dratted topic that was politics. 

Elrond had given her much advice on how to pass through the world of Men and how to actually be taken on as a healer in Gondor's capital city. So she had travelled to and fro to small villages and had practiced and after gaining a sufficient amount of experience and a steadily growing reputation amongst the people of Lossarnach that she had helped, she now journeyed to the Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith. 

Her horse, a gift (or more like an apology) from the diabolical twins, was a frisky mare who the twins swore had a temperament as hotheaded as herself. They had barely ducked the knife aimed at their heads. 

'Fireball', as she was named, was quite good friends with Buffy. For a horse anyway. After all, when good ol' Glorfindel, (who had so tried to edge in on _her_ title! What was a Balrog anyway? One demon, big whoop! _She _was the Slayer! Not some upstart little Noldo!) had shown her how to train Fireball to be… unfriendly to all people not Buffy. The first time that Elrohir had tried to put some very sticky honey ('all the better to glue you with, my dear' was his reason) on Buffy's saddle, Fireball had bucked him into a pond, thereby cementing Buffy's good opinion of her. Plus, Elrohir's face had been priceless! 

So here she was riding into Minas Tirith, riding in these things called divided skirts, which she could only imagine (and shudder at) trying to slay in. Of course, they were really cute and pretty. And she may be a warrior but she was female, and most definitely liked pretty clothes. And Elrond (and her bestest buddy Arwen) had given her plenty of pretty clothes. Of course, that probably had had something to do with her arrival in Rivendell… 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

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Rivendell, 2970.

Galadriel had seen to it that she had an 'escort' to Rivendell, comprising of Haldir and his brothers. Buffy had grumbled about not needing protection, but Galadriel had said that she would most definitely need directions and that not even a slayer could handle a whole company of orcs if they assaulted her along the way. As per usual, she was right. So Buffy had given in.

By the time they rode into Rivendell, Buffy had been sick to death of travelling, desperately wishing for a bath and ready to lop off a few ever too cheerful Elven heads if they dared to sing that blasted travelling song in her presence again! 

So as she jumped down from the back of Haldir's horse, her own having gone lame a couple of miles back, she was not in the best of tempers. Not to mention that she was struck temporarily mute by the beauty of the Elven valley. It was just wow! Completely different from the Golden Wood but still wow. And then Haldir led her into the Last Homely House, (more palace than house in Buffy's opinion) where Lord Elrond and his family were waiting for her.

Naturally, she came as a shock. People seemed to think that people as short as her couldn't be much of a warrior. So a grumpy, travel-rumpled Buffy wasn't what they had expected. Why did all Elves have to be so tall? She'd inwardly complained, it just wasn't fair. But she'd been blown away by the House of Elrond. Those identical twins were real hotties! Troublesome hotties by reputation, but still scrumptious. She'd probably have some fun sparring with them and tossing them about. And their sister, the Evenstar, fairest of all the she-Elves in Middle Earth, dressed immaculately and serene of face, made Buffy feel like Attila the Hun in comparison. 

Still, Elrond had been surprisingly nice (even if shocked that she hadn't been all 'Milord' and curtsying, which equated to no manners in this world) and as Arwen led her away to her new rooms, Buffy thought that maybe this return to being a student mightn't be so bad after all… 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

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2971. Minas Tirith. 

Buffy had been forced to stable Fireball in the first circle, horses not being allowed in the upper circles except for soldiers, traders and nobles etc. No such thing as democracy here. 

So hefting her dark green skirts, nicely slashed with cream, so that she could both walk quickly and keep them out of the dirt, she trudged her way through the white city. She had only gotten to the fourth circle when trouble found her.

She'd been walking away, minding her own business, when this thrice-damned somewhat crazed horse had decided to come charging at her. Dodging it in a rather ungainly fashion, and landing on her rump after banging into a moving wagon, she was then nearly stomped on by a soldier in the black and silver livery of the citadel, who was running in pursuit of the horse. The horse, the smug little thing, had accomplished its mission and was now prancing about and chewing on some hay on the back of a wagon. 

Buffy eyed the great beast distrustfully, at it stomped its foot and pawed the ground impatiently as it munched, wondering if it would be proper revenge to 'accidentally' help it get lost in a bog. A very deep bog. Another man clad in the uniform of a warrior of Gondor, and with a rather nice brooch on his cloak, ran up to her, looking somewhat mortified, "My lady! Are you well?!" he asked, even as he tried to help her up. 

Buffy didn't get much choice to accept the hand up as he just yanked but snatching her hand back, she brushed the dirt off her dress and gathered her things, "Some of us leave our horses in the outer circle," she snapped, wondering how the idiot had gotten his steed in her when she hadn't. 

"I apologise for this accident, my Lady," the soldier said contritely, dark hair falling into his eyes and partly hiding his face, "The horse is not yet broken in and is prone to fits of temper."

Buffy's glare darkened as she inspected the long cut, complete with splinter, stuck in her arm and the soldier shifted his feet nervously under her gaze before he realised what he was doing and straightened up to eyeball her back. 

"Where do you go my Lady?" the guard asked, taking in the richly crafted garments provided for her by the Elves and assuming her to be nobility.

"I seek the Houses of Healing. It is in the sixth circle I believe."

The soldier nodded, "Of course my Lady, you will want that cut seen to. As I am partly at fault, may I offer to accompany you to the Healing Houses and then on to your original destination?" he asked.

Buffy had to admit that this chivalry thing seemed to be everywhere. "I _am_ a healer," she said frostily, "Hence me going to the Houses of Healing. And I don't need a babysitter." She resisted the urge to tack the word 'numbskull' onto it. Barely. 

The soldier actually had the gall to smirk, "Forgive me if I seem imprudent but it is rather ironic when the healer needs healing."

"And forgive me if I seem sarcastic, but shouldn't a big bad soldier be able to control a _horse_? Or are you one of those men who just scream and run at the sight of danger?" She punctuated her words with an obnoxiously sweet smile and the man bristled. 

"I am no soldier," the man had said icily, grey eyes burning with anger, and some small hint of amusement, "You mock a Captain."

Buffy's hand flew up to her mouth, "Whoops. I'm _so _scared." she drawled, "Now if you could just move on out of my way, I might be able to get where I'm going sometime in the next age. After all, I'm sure you've got time enough to run down a few dozen more women before dinner." Breezing by him, she resumed her trudging and muttered under her breath about the stupidity of men.

As the strange blonde woman walked away, Captain Thorongil of Gondor, also known as Strider of the Dúnedain and Aragorn, son of Arathorn, wondered if he'd missed something. No one in Gondor had talked to him that way, let alone a petite little woman that didn't come up to his shoulder! Who did she think she was? She reminded him of his brothers in a strange way, what with their love of riling him with taunts and pranks. As Gutram led the troublesome horse in his direction, he shrugged himself out of his musing and back to duty. He'd probably never see her again anyway. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

The Houses of Healing were large and airy, and the smell of herbs assaulted Buffy as she entered. Pushing back her light dust-cloak, she was approached by a young woman with dark brown hair. "Greetings, my Lady," she said with a curtsy, "I am Ioreth. How may I be of service?" Blue eyes took in the cut on her arm, "Oh! Forgive me, it must be that cut you want tended!"

Buffy shook her head, "No, I am come to work as a healer. I am Eliza of Lossarnach. I believe I am expected."

Ioreth's eyes widened, "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. 'Tis not often we have a Lady working as a healer. But I still must see to that cut."

Again, Buffy waved her off. After all, the cut would heal in less than half an hour thanks to good old fashioned slayer healing abilities. She really didn't want to have to explain that so soon. "There's no need. I can do it myself. If you could just take me to the person in charge here…" 

"Of course," Ioreth said, bobbing yet another curtsy. What was wrong with these people? Buffy thought, they must get a pain in their backs from all this bowing. 

Ioreth led her to a rather matronly looking woman called Ethelle, with more grey in her hair than black, and a stern look. She surveyed Buffy with a critical eye, "A bit younger than I had expected," she said, "But I've heard good things about you. You will start here tomorrow and 'twill be best if you find lodgings close to the Houses. You will have to tell me the address so that you may be found if you are needed. With those blasted Corsairs terrorising our men, everyone must be prepared." 

Buffy nodded, pirates, just her luck. Did they have eye patches like the movies, she wondered. "Is it true that the companies are in need of field Healers?" she asked.

Ethelle sighed, "Rather desperately, I'm afraid. But men so seldom come to train as healers that there are too few for every company to have one."

"Are the women not allowed go?" Buffy asked curiously.

"By the Valar, no!" Ethelle exclaimed, "All field healers must be able to defend themselves in battle, and what well-bred woman would know how to wield a sword?" 

We'll see about that, Buffy thought. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then," she said as she left, already planning to get appointed as a field healer to whatever company dear ol' Aragorn was in. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Buffy found quarters in the sixth circle, a rather nice suite of apartments. They'd do the job and that was all that was really necessary. She was still reeling from the loss of plumbing, central heating, electricity and running water. The Elven realms were nice, at least they had come up with running water, some clever ways to heat it and these cool little lamps called glow-bulbs that didn't need oil or candles.

Unfortunately, the cities of Men had none of these things. And poor Buffy was trying to learn how to do a thousand and one things on her own that had been rendered obsolete in her world for the past few centuries. Chamber pots were just eugh! Not to mention that the burning of petticoats had been a very good thing in Buffy's opinion. They only thing they were good for was providing more places to hide her weapons. Still, all this stuff was called 'acting like a lady'. Something Elrond had put great store in, much to her dismay…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

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2970, Rivendell.

Elrond stared down at the petite woman in front of him. _This_ was who Galadriel had sent to protect Estel? _This_ was the Valar's choice? Eru must have been running out of warriors, Elrond thought in annoyance. He knew all too well that his son in all but blood wouldn't accept a woman protector, yet alone one so small. And if he had the right view on Buffy's (or was it Aralle's? Celeborn really had been quite insistent on that name) temper, when she and Aragorn met, Sauron wouldn't have to bother trying to kill the rightful King, this slayer would probably do it for him. 

Still, there was yet hope. He had dealt with multitudes of scruffy, muddy and most often foul-smelling Dúnedain in his life. And if one could manage to get their chieftain into garments more fitting to his station, then he could handle the education of one woman. After all, Arwen would help him. If he could just keep Elladan and Elrohir from corrupting the slayer, he might just make it happen. 

Looking over her, he could see the skill of a veteran warrior in her movements. That got a nod. Unfortunately her attire didn't get the same approval. Travel-stained and rumpled breeches and tunic, quiver still strung across her back, knives and sword still belted around her hip. She didn't know how to curtsey, obviously didn't like using titles and had a rather… interesting vocabulary that was baffling at the best of times. And he had to make her look, act and speak as befitting a Lady of rank? And train her in the healing arts on top of it? His august second-mother had given him quite the challenge. Still, at least one born from magic as she was shouldn't have too much trouble with healing. As long as she stopped inflicting wounds long enough to learn that was. 

Still, Elrond Eärendilion, Scion of Lúthien, Herald to Gil-galad, Lord of Imladris, was not one to give up on anyone. If he had survived Oropher of Greenwood's tantrums and tempers during the Last Alliance, he could stand against any this girl could throw at him. Plus, he had Vilya. If that wasn't an advantage, what was? 

Studying her with a critical eye, he noted the long blonde hair, sharp hazel eyes and elegant figure. There was potential there alright. Now, all he had to do was convince her of that. 

Buffy had lost her patience with this little staring contest. "You gonna stand there all day like a statue or are you actually going to say something?"

Elrond winced at the language, "You are now in my charge, Lady Slayer, and before you leave this valley I will have made sure you can pass for Middle Earth born."

Buffy's hands slid down to rest on her hips from where she had had them folded across her chest, "Whadya mean Mr Elf?" 

Elrond rolled his eyes, "I see you have no concept on how to behave as a Lady." he observed.

Buffy glared at him, "Not exactly from this world, buddy." Really, you would think one so supposedly wise would know that. 

"Then it seems it is to be left to me to show you how to be one, before Ecthelion throws you out for insulting all his people!" 

Buffy's head cocked to one side, "Ecthelion's the steward guy, right?" In the background, Elrond could hear Glorfindel laughing at him and he vowed right then and there that Buffy would be fit to audience with a Queen (or a King as the case may be) if he had to threaten to lock her in a room with Elladan and Elrohir, with her tied up and them loaded with honey, glue and various sticky and slimy substances. 

Elrond grabbed the surprised slayer's hand and hauled her off deeper into the house, calling for Erestor to fetch Arwen, prepare a bath, and a fire (for the clothes she had on) and to find the dressmaker. Within minutes, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, who had faced down countless demons, ghosts, Hell Gods, vampires and werewolves with nary a blink was trying not to cower as a whole swarm of household staff descended on her, all intent on making her 'presentable'…

And so began Buffy's education as a lady…

~*~

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2971.

Oh, she'd learned all to well. She might not be able to bash every rude or condescending man over the head like she wished. But she could do better. A few little words to their wives, or betrothed or lovers. Or field commanders. 

Or she could just be mean and have them hauled in for a 'check-up'. 

The very thought made her smile rather evilly. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

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2970. Lothlórien. 

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"One often calms one's grief by recounting it." -Pierre Corneille

Alone amongst a small copse of mellyrn trees, Buffy Summers, furiously beat upon the punching bag that had been made at her request and hung in this sheltered grove in respect of her privacy. Her eyes were suspiciously bright due to repressed tears as she let her raging emotions find an outlet. 

In all her long years upon the earth, Galadriel had counselled many but seldom had she seen many humans which such cares weighing upon them and such a horrific past. In truth, she knew little of Buffy's past, the slayer being unwilling to speak of it, and what she did know came from flashes in her mirror, each one more incomprehensible than the last. 

The girl's plight tugged at her heart. There had been no children born to the Elves for centuries, their fading was upon them and the call of the forbidden West grew ever louder to her ears. She had not sought out someone like this since Arwen's last visit. And even Arwen had never had such nightmares, even after dear Celebrían sailed. 

"Buffy," she called softly, and the girl spun to face her, eyes wet, face flushed and poised to fight. When she saw the Elf she relaxed, but there was a certain wariness around her still. "Your grief will not be assuaged by trying to beat it to death," she said with only the faintest trace of amusement, "Will you not unburden yourself to me? I would know what horrors disturb your sleep and make you old before your time."

"You don't want to know my life," Buffy replied, looking away from her, "It's not exactly been a bundle of fun."

"You cannot leave this wood with a death wish engraved on your heart. You did not come here to die. You were sent here to live."

Buffy laughed bitterly, "To live where? Doing what? I'm gonna spend the rest of my life babysitting people? I'm in a world that puts loads of importance on titles, lands, being part of some kingdom or another, and what have I? Nothing, that's what. And the PTB just expect me to take it like some well-trained puppy. I didn't bow down to the Watchers Council, I'm not going to do it for some stupid… _somethings_ that want to make my life a living hell!" 

"Did you ever consider that they sent you because they valued your skills?" Galadriel asked softly, "I have never known the Valar to be deliberately cruel and Tulkas, is a great champion for warriors such as yourself."

"All they've ever done for me is curse me," Buffy said, "And give out when I don't follow the rules."

Galadriel's fabled foresight came to her in a flash of insight, "You left your world without settling matters," she stated, "I cannot see it clearly but there was some trouble between you and your family. And some sort of.. mutiny amongst those you were charged to lead."

Sharp hazel bored into jewel blue, "Do I even want to know how you do that?" she said somewhat shakily, "But I gotta give you marks for accuracy."

Galadriel moved lightly across the distance between them, put a comforting arm around Buffy as the slayer sank to the ground to sit in a dejected heap, fighting back the feelings she had kept bottled up for nearly two weeks. "You were betrayed," Galadriel said softly, "Betrayed by those you loved most, and those you who had tried to save. 'Twas a cruel blow. Even worse when done by blood against blood."

Pictures of Dawn, Giles and the scoobies flashed through her mind. "They wanted Faith to lead them. She killed a man, tried to kill them, was in jail and they still chose her." Buffy said, her voice cracking on the last few words. 

"That was not all, was it?" Galadriel asked, tucking a stray strand of Buffy's hair behind her ear.

The mental dam that she'd erected to hold out her feelings about that day was wavering, being hammered and chipped by every word the she-Elf spoke. And then as sure as if she had bombed it, the dam burst into a million shards and the resulting flood left Buffy vulnerable and reeling. 

The long withheld tears streamed down her face, and her story began to pour from her in between choking sobs and all through it all, Galadriel held her and comforted her, like her mother used to do when she was little and the biggest thing she'd had to worry about was the dog chewing on her teddy bear. 

"It's not fair!" she choked out, "I protected them, I saved their lives, I died for them _twice _and they still betrayed me! My own sister didn't want me!" Visions of Xander's patched eye, Giles' disappointed expression, the accusing looks on the Potentials, the unforgiving grimness of Willow and the blunt blame of Anya, all topped off by the detached expression on Dawn's face as she told her that she was being kicked out, that she had killed people, that they didn't want her anymore and that they thought she thought she was better than them. All those accusations being reeled off one after another, giving her no chance to recover from the first sucker punch she'd been dealt. 

"Maybe they were right. It was my fault the Master got loose, my fault that Jenny and Kendra died, my fault that Angelus came back. All because I wasn't thinking like a slayer's supposed to. It's my fault Xander lost his eye, and my fault all those Potentials died and my fault that the First could even free itself in the first place! I was better off dead. All I do is bring the Reaper with me wherever I go." Buffy sobbed, fat tears dripping down her face as she clung to the Elf in her pain. Her heart felt raw and bruised, dripping big great bloody tears of pain that wouldn't leave her alone. 

"The burdens of leadership are hard. And those who must fight the wars of their time are doubly pressed. Do not blame yourself for what was not within your control. Your witch friend brought you back from the dead against all reason, and loosed the First. 'Tis not your fault. You had no choice in the matter," Galadriel said soothingly, smoothing her hands through Buffy's hair, "Do not take all the cares of the world upon your shoulders." 

She grasped Buffy's hands and held them in her own, "And you do not have nothing. The blessings of the Elves shall always go with you and you shall always have a home in Lórien. The past is in the past. Your family and friends made their choice, but what is over is over. There is nothing you can do know if you dwell on it but make yourself ill. You have the chance to start over here, to build something that is yours alone and when your duty is dispatched to live in peace if you wish. This is a world full of warriors, the loss of one after the war is over will not change things. The Slayer can be left behind with your past, and Buffy can live without its burden."

At Buffy's puzzled expression, she elaborated, "There has never been a slayer here before. What vampires there were disappeared in the first age and the War of Wrath was the end of many of the demons of this world. A slayer was never needed here before. It is not needed. Buffy the woman is needed and if you should decide, you can hang up your mantle in this world, without ever being forced to reclaim it if you do not wish. You need not die young as was your fate before. I am not without influence with the Valar and I will not let your burdens be acknowledged without reward."

Blue eyes filled with all the wisdom of the ages locked onto her younger companion's. "You can't change the past.... but you can change the future.." Galadriel whispered. "I see much strength in you and in your future there shall be bountiful happiness if one is ready to seize it. _Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya_. "

And for the first time in a long while, Buffy allowed herself to hope…

  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

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2971. Minas Tirith. 

Captain Thorongil walked into the houses of healing cursing that rabid horse he'd been saddle with (and who had landed a very successful kick on him). Why oh why couldn't they have just bought horses from the Rohirrim like he'd suggested? At least, they all came broken. 

Nursing his aching and possibly sprained wrist, he was directed into an empty examining room and told that someone would be with him in just one minute, if it pleased the captain to wait. 

All thoughts of the pain went out of his head when a very familiar blonde figure walked in and stopped dead as she caught sight of him. "Well, well, well, look what the horse dragged in…" she quipped and then fixed him with a stern glare. "Are we regretting making fun of me earlier my dear over-arrogant captain?"

Aragorn forced himself not to ask the Valar if he'd done something to displease him to set this wench on him yet again. "My Lady, I did beg your forgiveness and would consider the matter closed if you would just tend to my injury and forgo the temptation to insult me."

She smiled somewhat sinisterly, in his opinion at least, "Of course I'd like to help you out. Which way did you come in?" she said cheerfully.

Aragorn decided politeness was going to get him nowhere, "It is you duty as a healer to tend to the wounded. Or would you have me go to the one who pays you and suggest that you be released from service?"

The woman didn't even look at him, instead she went to a nearby supply cupboard and started taking some things out. "Are you deaf woman?" he snapped. 

"I'm not deaf.... I'm just ignoring you," she replied and started mixing together a tonic to repel infection. 

"May I at least have the pleasure of your name so I can know who am I about to get dismissed?"

"It's Eliza," she said icily, "And who are you besides 'not a soldier but a captain'?"

"My name is Thorongil." he said and was puzzled to see her nearly drop the next sachet of herbs. 

Buffy nearly had a heart attack when the guy said 'Thorongil'. That was Aragorn, son of Arathorn's alias. The guy she had to protect was a moron. Looking him over, she decided that if he shaved, washed and brushed his hair, cleaned up somewhat and stopped scowling, he'd probably look like the guy she'd been shown. 

But could they have gotten off to a worse start? she grumbled. She mightn't have been so rude and Cordelia-like if she'd known she was gonna have to work with him. It was high time to start the lash-batting that Elrond had had her practice. 

Moving over to him, she handed him the tonic with an order to drink it and started probing his hand. Looking him over, she said, "Looks like you've got a sprained wrist," she said as she rubbed a poultice over it and swiftly bandaged it, "Is this your sword hand?" she asked. 

He shook his head, "I use my right hand mostly for swordwork."

"Well, no two handed sword play until this heals. And I wouldn't recommend going with any company until it is either." she warned, "Don't make me label you off-duty due to injury."

Aragorn eyed her warily. Why had she stopped jumping down his throat? "Then I am fit to go, Lady?" he asked , taking advantage of her sudden good temper. Women, he knew, were as predictable as a storm. You never knew where their fury was going to land. 

"Yes, but no exertion on that hand," she answered. As he left, she wondered exactly how she was gonna get in his good books so that she could watch his back. She only hoped that she wouldn't have to act like some airhead to get his attention or else she'd end up killing someone, preferably him, before too long. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

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2971. Rivendell. 

Buffy walked through the gardens of Rivendell with Arwen, enjoying her company. It was nice to have a girl friend again. Galadriel could be considered one too she supposed, but the Lady of the Wood was almost too majestic to be thought of in such terms, and tended to take over the role of mentor to Buffy at times. 

With Arwen, things were less complicated. At first slightly intimidated by the beautiful Evenstar, things had quickly blossomed into friendship between them during Elrond's 'make-Buffy-into-a-respectable-Lady' campaign.

They were comparing previous dating disasters and musing on what they wanted in the perfect guy. If such a creature existed.

"Well, the supposed love of my life was a vampire who turned into a monster when he lost his soul, which was when he was with me. I think it would be fairly hard to top that disaster." Buffy said flippantly, her heart no longer hurting when she thought of Angel. Not even a twinge of regret. She was over him at last. And it felt good. 

"'Twould be hard," Arwen agreed, her arm laced comfortably with Buffy's as they circled the gardens, "But I would not despair yet. You are young and mayhap you will find what you have been looking for here in Middle Earth."

Buffy sighed, "Not likely to happen when I have to play minder to a man who's probably going to try and get rid of me once he finds out."

"I would not think Aragorn so unreasonable, and I have asked my brothers."

"You haven't met him?" 

"I was residing in Lórien when he was brought here and he had left before I returned. I have not yet met him as a man, though I have seen him as an infant."

"Enough talk about the wannabe king, what about you Arwen? When are you going to settle down?"

"I have yet to meet someone who catches my interest for long," Arwen said, "But I am of the Eldar and the one meant for me might be in the West."

"You'll choose an immortal life, then?" Buffy asked. 

"I have no reason to choose a mortal life," Arwen said with a smile, "And I shall sail with my father when he goes."

"Must be nice to not grow old. Me, I'm gonna get grey and wrinkly while you're the same as now." Buffy said. "Usually Buffy and immortals don't mix. Just look at the Angel saga. But as I'm not angling to date you or anyone in your family, I think we can avoid that issue."

Arwen smiled somewhat sadly, "I doubt it will come to that, my friend, as you have said no slayer ever grows old. They are slain far too soon. Grey hair will most likely not be your fate. A war is brewing as has not been seen since the last Age, and whether any of use shall live to see its end is uncertain."

"Don't worry your little head about it," Buffy assured her, "I'll whip Aragorn into shape, whether he likes it or not and then we should have a shot."

"Your optimism is refreshing Buffy," Arwen said happily, "My mother would have liked you very much. As I and the rest of my family do. Know that I consider you a sister of the heart, and I shall aks the Valar to grace you so long as you wander Middle Earth." 

Buffy's heart skipped a beat, and a warm glow filled her. Giving in to the moment, she hugged Arwen and idly noted that Galadriel had indeed been right. She was picking up a family and friends as she went along and suddenly the world didn't seem so bad. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

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2971. The Citadel. Minas Tirith.

Squaring her shoulders as the servant announced her, Buffy prepared herself for one over-healthy dose of male egos. Elrond's favourite admonishment, 'Act like a Lady, for Eru's sake, not a drunken ranger!' ran through her head like a mantra. She'd never been able to 'behave' around arrogant males (*cough* Quentin Travers) and she tried to keep her 'unruliness' (that came courtesy of Celeborn) in check. 

As she was motioned to enter, she tried not to gawk at the sights. Of course, having lived in two Elven realms for a while really had dimmed the wow factor of other places quite a bit but the massive throne above the Steward's seat was mighty impressive. Elves didn't seem to go in for all the gilded shiny thrones Men liked, probably something to do with them doing the whole scary glowy thing that made them light bulbs look dim. 

She resisted the urge to grown softly as she approached the grey-haired steward and saw Aragorn and some other guy in the room as well. All the more people to witness her imminent humiliation. At least she'd had experience acting like a wimpy little eighteenth century maiden when Ethan Rayne had spelled the Halloween costumes to change the personality of the wearer into whatever they were wearing all that time. All that screaming had given her a sore throat though.

Curtsying without tripping over her feet, (Elrond had made her practice it over and over again - the sadist), she spoke quietly but distinctly, "My Lord, I have come to petition you to allow me to join the field healers so I may serve Gondor to the best of my abilities." (long-winded speeches came courtesy of the Lord of Lossarnach, who _loved_ to talk, the windbag.)

_*_

Aragorn was surprised once more to run into Eliza. In fact, he'd been rather glad to escape her the last time. A woman who was almost as mercurial of temperament as the twins was bound to be trouble.

Seeing her here though, in a formal situation, with her holding herself with a quiet sense of dignity and self-possession that he wouldn't have expected of her, he saw her in a different light. There was something there he recognised, no matter how much he had dismissed her before. Perhaps that knowledge was what had made him dismiss her out of hand in the first place. For all her youthfulness, Aragorn had sensed something kindred within her: a burden that rested on her shoulders, a knowledge that lives were in her hands. 

Her request surprised him even more and he winced visibly at the very thought. The skirmishes with the Corsairs were bloody enough without throwing a screaming maiden into the mix. 

_*_

The healer called Eliza stepped into the room and Denethor's breath caught. She was short, graceful of motion and light of step, with long golden hair and sharp hazel eyes set in a pretty face. And his mouth nearly fell agape at her request. A woman in the midst of battles? Did she think herself some kind of Shield-maiden? 'Twas madness!

His father, Ecthelion, looked her over grimly. "I think you misunderstand the danger involved," he said sternly, "All field healers must be able to defend themselves. While healers are always welcome, you cannot expect any company to expend resources to keep you safe at the expense of a victory."

"My Lord," Eliza began, "I assure you I am not defenceless. My mother died when I was young and my father insisted that I learn to defend myself." It was true in a way. Her mom had died way too young, leaving Buffy with Dawn, and Giles, her only real father figure, had thought her to fight. 

His father's eyebrow rose and he barely masked his own snort of disgust, did she really think to fool anybody? He would be surprised if she could lift a sword, let alone wield it! Beside him that thorn in his side Thorongil shifted, obviously expecting an outburst of some kind. 

Eliza's back straightened and her chin lifted in defiance, "My Lords, I assure you I am most capable. In fact, I would challenge any man here to test my skills and see whether I am lacking or not before my Lord Ecthelion passes his judgement."

Denethor had to give her points for brazenness, "The Men of Gondor do not fight with women in such a way," he said firmly, "The women of this realm are not trained to fight. That is a man's duty."

The healer's hazel eyes tried to bore through him from beneath a mask of impassiveness, "Those who do not wield a blade may still die upon them," she said with conviction. "I have been trained, I am no green apprentice. My blade has seen blood drawn with it and I demand my right to prove it and defend my honour against your accusations of incompetence!"

"And where have you drawn blood, as you put it, Lady Eliza?" his father asked in bemusement.

"Do you think all the roads I have travelled are safe from brigands?" she replied sassily, "I can hold my own. I only ask you to let me prove it."

To his surprise, his father was silent for a moment before nodding, "Very well. You shall be tested. Let it not be known that the Steward besmirches a Lady's honour through prejudice. I shall set you against my best swordsman and Captain, Thorongil. He hath served in King Thengel of Rohan's service and hath seen Shield-maidens before." Denethor bristled at his words. Once more, Thorongil was shown to be the favourite, the best, the most adored and successful captain of Gondor. And he, Denethor, Heir to the Steward, was once more overlooked. 

Noting Thorongil's intense study of the healer's lithe form, a study that lacked the detachedness of one sizing up a contender, but that shone more of personal interest. So the famed captain might have an interest in the healer. He would see about that. Thorongil from nowhere, was no match for Denethor of Gondor, and if Thorongil wanted the healer, then he would make sure he would never have her. Thorongil would see Denethor, his better, have the favour of the Lady. 

See if he wouldn't. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Aragorn was surprised at the woman's audaciousness. There were few who used that tone with the Steward or his son and got away with it unscathed. He watched, somewhat bemused, as she took the nondescript sword offered to her and swung it experimentally a few times. He noted the practiced, fluid motion in which she did it and knew she had not lied when she said she was skilled with a blade. 

Pulling out his own sword, he stepped forward to face her in the middle of the room. "You do not have to do this," he hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

Her eyes were hazel chips of ice, her stance ready as she hefted the blade, "Afraid captain?" she taunted, "Now, stop stalling." 

In an unbelievable quick movement, she had swung and he found himself bringing up his sword in an instinctive defensive manoeuvre. The swords met with the clash of steel.

And then she was moving again, circling him, blocking, parrying, thrusting with an ease and abandon that astonished him. One of her size shouldn't be able to move so fast and strike with such strength, especially not in a skirt. 

Aragorn was considered a skilled swordsman, having been trained by the best at Rivendell and he knew another master (or was it mistress?) of the blade when he saw one. She veritably danced around him, the movements of her sword like infinitesimal flashes of steel that one saw coming too late, if they saw it at all. If he had not been trained by the Elves, and used to their swiftness, nimbleness and skill with blades, he wouldn't have lasted the first minute.

He had intended to go easier on her at first but as she tried, and almost succeeded to back him into a corner, he started putting all his skill and desire to win into the sparring session. She met him blow for blow, not the least bit fazed, her face as calm and serene (and miraculously not flushed) as if she was merely going for a stroll on a balmy day. 

He swung, he ducked, he used every trick of the blade he knew and he held his own. He knew he had the advantage in reach of arm, and his hand had healed with the swiftness of the Númenóreans, so his two handed grip put more strength behind his blows. He was also unhampered by heavy skirts as he moved but she was still as fast as a flitting Elf on the run. 

As swift as a snake striking at prey from its shelter in the grass, she changed tactics and started reigning blows down on him. Their eyes met and he stared at one he could call his equal in skill, if not his better. And he knew that if he met her as an enemy on a battlefield, at that moment he would have seen his death coming towards him in a golden blur. Her lips twitched slightly and she flashed a glance at Ecthelion and Denethor, who watched with jaws agape and wide eyes at their display of prowess, blocking his own strikes through instinct. 

Eliza looked at him strangely, and then with a sly smile and a challenging look in her eyes, thrown in with some other feeling he could not identify, she slowed her movements and allowed him to gain the upper hand. They exchanged a few more parries and then she 'accidentally' tripped over her skirts and went down with his blade pointed at her throat. 

As Denethor and Ecthelion lauded her efforts, and the Steward granted her leave to join whatever company she wished, Aragorn stared at her with narrowed eyes and a bruised ego. She had thrown that match deliberately and so help him, he was going to find out why. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

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"The big won't beat the small – the fast will beat the slow." – John Chambers

"I don't think this is a good idea my friend," Elrond said, with a concealed smile.

Glorfindel humped in annoyance, "Afraid that I will bruise the little upstart?" he said snidely. "She insulted my honour, questioned my intelligence and downright dismissed my fighting skills. I took down a Balrog. The _Chief_ Balrog. I shall not hesitate to deal with one woman."

"She's the descendant of a long line of mystical warriors." Elrond reminded him.

"And I'm a reborn Elf. Who lived in the First Age when Morgoth was loose." he retorted. 

"Ah, well, I tried to warn you my friend."

_*_

__

How it all started….

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"I'm the Slayer!" Buffy exclaimed. "You have all the wring equipment to be a slayer buddy! Anyone ever bother to tell you that impersonation can get your butt kicked?"

"I am legendary!" Glorfindel retorted, "I died slaying the Chief of Balrogs and I was reborn! I have whole ages on you, you arrogant little girl!" 

"Hah! Well I died and came back *twice*! So there Glorfy!" she taunted, "And by the way, I have slain demons in their thousands, so what are you bragging about, Mr 'let's-steal-my-title'?" 

"I can best you any day!" Glorfindel roared, throwing down the gauntlet, and in the background, Elladan and Elrohir started to laugh.

"Prove it so, Mr. 'I-have-an-emu-the-size-of-Argentina-stuck-up-my-ass'!" Buffy challenged. 

And so the Balrog Slayer Vs Vampire Slayer battle was agreed upon…

_*_

As Glorfindel picked himself up off the ground for the _third_ time that hour, he grumpily mused that Elrond had been right. He hadn't known what he had gotten into. 

The Vampire Slayer was good, very good, excellent even. And while he was also excellent, he'd underestimated her and a woman scorned in general and so had spent much of the last hour being thrown around. 

You see, Buffy wasn't very fond of fighting with one weapon only. So she used hands, feet, and her sword to try to trounce him. In public, no less. 

Spitting out a blade of grass, he advanced on her menacingly and got a roundhouse kick in the chest for his troubles. The girl was just too damn small to pin down! One minute she was there, the next she was not. And every single time he landed a blow on her, he had managed to punch her in the side at one stage, she just shrugged it off if she bothered to shrug at all.

About halfway through their little tête-à-tête, she cheerfully told him that she hadn't slain anything in months and was so hyperactive that she was thanking him for being her private punching bag. 

While he was getting thrown around quite a bit, she was tiring and he wasn't so gentlemanly as to not take advantage of it. As he went in for the killing blow, she did a backflip come summersault and got behind him, promptly kicking his legs out from under him and dumping him hard on his back with her sword to his throat and her boot on his chest. "One rule of slayage," she said idly, "Don't fall for stupid bait."

The twins laughter rang hard in his ears and his face burned as she let him up and he got to his feet. "Well, it seems I am bested." he said.

"Yep," Buffy agreed, "Don't mess with the slayer Balrog Boy."

And so a rather unusual friendship began as Elrond led them into the Hall of Fire for a well deserved cup of Miruvor…

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

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2971. Minas Tirith.

Denethor approached Buffy as she left through the grand doors. "My Lady Eliza," he greeted, "If I could speak with you a moment?" 

"Of course my Lord," she replied, wondering what he wanted.

"I would like to congratulate you again on you showing in there. It was exemplary." he said.

"Thank you, my Lord. You are most kind." God, how she hated this long-winded stuff, though to her horror, she found her traitorous tongue was actually getting used to it. 

"My father would have me extend an invitation to the next ball to you. You carry yourself like a noblewoman even if you claim not to be one. My father felt that leaving one so charming out of such a gathering would be a great injustice to the city."

"It would be my pleasure to attend, my Lord." she answered, wondering if city's parties had anything on the Elves. In Lossarnach, it had seemed to be more drinking than dancing as the preferred choice. 

"Then I shall see you there, my Lady," he said, giving her a slight bow as he walked away.

Buffy stared after him. Men, she muttered, always trying to throw you off balance. But there was something funny about that one, it was almost like he was int… Nah, what was she thinking? 

There was no way that Galadriel or Elrond wouldn't have warned her about something so likely to cause a political incident, (or to get Buffy's head on the chopping block).

Was there? 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

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August 2970. Rivendell.

"Sometimes Lady," Elrond said, "It is better to accept aid freely given than struggle on alone in an attempt to prove yourself strong."

"You Elves really love the cryptic advice, don't you?" Buffy quipped. Really though, they seemed to spend their time thinking up ways to leave you guessing.

"You go now to the world of Men, and by Eru I hope you shall succeed in your task. I see two paths for you. In one you scorn such aid and struggle on to your doom. In the other, you embrace what is offered and glory follows you."

"Well, gee, that's helpful. Any chance you could tell me what this all important choice is? 'Cos I would really hate for it to be something small, like 'hmmm, what shall I wear today?' Because if it is, that sucks."

"May the Valar protect you," Elrond said with amusement, "Because that tongue of yours is going to get you into all sorts of trouble."

"Trouble's my speciality, Elrond. You should know that." On impulse she hugged him, "Thanks for everything," she said fondly.

Crossing to the twins, she gave them hugs as well, after ascertaining that they weren't hiding anything icky in their pockets to try and shove down the back of her clothes. "Thanks for Fireball," she told them, "Try not to burn anything down while I'm gone and make sure to tease Glorfindel for me."

"'Tis as good as done, Buffy," Elladan said with a grin. 

"Any excuse to annoy 'Balrog Boy' must be taken," Elrohir added, using Buffy's nickname for the other Lord. 

Arwen and she embraced as near-sisters, "Keep an eye on them," she cautioned, "You never know when you're gonna find a snake in your bed with them around."

Arwen laughed softly, "How well I know that. Take care Buffy and may the light of Eärendil light your way."

"And may you find the happiness you deserve, sis'," Buffy said, "Take care while I'm gone. And if anybody gives you any trouble, just give me their name and I'll kick their ass for you."

Tinkling laugher followed her statement, "Thank you Buffy."

The goodbyes were hard, but she knew that she would come back someday. And it wasn't as if they were gonna get any older. She'd do her job and then ask if she could torment Glorfindel on a regular basis. 

She might not be able to forget what she had left behind but she was now starting to look at what she had and doing it made her feel all tingly inside. 

She'd play minder to Aragorn, she'd place the crown on his head herself if she had to and then she'd find her new home. 

What could possibly go wrong?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

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A/N: So? What do you think? Nearly ten thousand words! That's twice the size of the first chapter!

Your vote: should Denethor have a shot or not? Tell me in a review! 

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Next chapter: Buffy proves her worth. But can Gondor survive it? 

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Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510.

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Eärendil - Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth. 

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Eärendilion - means son of Eärendil in Sindarin. 

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Ethelle - Head Healer in the Houses of Healing. 

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Gil-galad - Last High King of the Noldor. King of Lindon. Died during the final battle of the Last Alliance. 

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Gutram - a soldier of Gondor under Thorongil's command. 

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Ioreth - During the War of the Ring, she is the oldest woman in the Houses of Healing, so here she is again, nearly sixty years earlier. 

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Lúthien - Daughter of King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia. Born in the First Age. Married a mortal man and came back from the dead as a mortal after convincing Mandos with a song to release her and her love, Beren. Considered the most beautiful Elf-maid to walk Arda. 

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Oropher - King of Greenwood (now known as Mirkwood) in the Second Age. Was killed during the Last Alliance. Generally thought to be cantankerous. 

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Tulkas - one of the Valar. Likes fighting. 

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond. 

"_Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya_." - May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky.

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Timeline:

May 2970 - Lothlórien. 

October 2970 - Rivendell.

September 2971 - Lossarnach

November 2971 - Minas Tirith. 


	3. The Battle At the Ships Part 1

FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

****

Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Before everyone has apoplexy, Denethor was never really in the equation. And at this point in time, he's in his thirties so is not yet the old crazy guy from RotK.

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Review responses:

Aleviel - That will become clear in time..

Anna - Thanks! Yes, a Buffy/Arwen/Aragorn triangle would wreak havoc with friendships…

Anon - It's pronounced Ar as in Arwen and then Al as in Alice.

Arkee - Yeah, I know I moved kinda fast. So I have been told. But don't worry, flashbacks will be nowhere near as frequent now as Buffy gets head over heels in trouble in Gondor.

Brazen1 - I hope you're family don't think you're insane with all the giggling…

Catlimere - I know, I dislike Denethor too. In the books, he's an insane ass. In the movies, he's an insane ass. Not much there to like. But he's useful for the plot. Thanks for the compliments!

Destiny's Dragon - Yes, he's the insane guy. I seem to be saying that a lot…

Erro - Thanks! Flashbacks have been cut down.

Estel's Girl - That would be a yes.

Freya Elise Raine - Thanks a bunch! And Denethor is only being considered to throw some kinks in the works of another relationship.

Grace - I dunno, I always thought that Angel had pretty much blew his chances with Buffy, especially when he has already slept with Darla and got her pregnant with his son. I always thought Buffy could do better, especially after seeing the season four of Angel. Why settle for a vampire when you can rumble with Kings, Princes and Lords?

Herald-Mage Brianna - Can you just imagine it? _Buffy: You're father tried to hit on me when he was younger. Is this a family thing, horn boy?. Boromir: What? Wait a moment, you're that hellion he used to scare us with! _It would be some bust up.

Holy-Demon - Constructive criticism is perfectly ok. Everyone has to learn, right? And I'll never know what I'm doing wrong unless someone tells me. And I know some of Buffy's reactions could have been better, but she did just arrive in another world. And besides, even people she thought were good and harmless have betrayed her before.

Immortalwizardelf-fan - Too true. You're on the right track with pairings though.

Imp17 - Thanks, it's nice to know that I'm not portraying Buffy OC.

Jess S1 - I don't think Buffy's accomplishments will lessen the impact of Éowyn's. after all, Éowyn slayed something that was both undead but also that which no man could kill. Kinda hard to top that one or say it's inconsequential. Thanks for the compliments! Good ideas with regards Denethor!

Jeni Black - yes, it will be. At least some of it. And Arwen's been dropping hints about what?

Kandice - both your wishes are fulfilled!

Kat - I'm planning around 30-37 chapters so plenty of action to come yet. And I know what you mean about the dream couple. He would get to do the whole heir thing with the commanding of ghost and she'd get to slay all the nasties she wanted with her lover for (for once) more than adequate backup.

La Vito - Problems are a-brewing.

Lisette - Wow! I can't believe you're reviewing! I love your work, 'Racing With Destiny' was pure class. Thanks! And yes, flashbacks were only there to establish background not there in the first chapter.

Meira - Yes, this story will have a romance.

Mj - Yes, the Denethor is the old guy in the movie.

Pam - Thanks! Yes, there is tension between Buffy and Aragorn. And there's gonna be a helluva lot more!

Renna - Probably a bit of both.

Sci-fi gurl - Your wish is granted.

SeleneaD - I know, you really pity Boromir and Faramir for what they have to put up with. Especially Faramir. Thanks, it's always nice to be original and as for putting me on your lists, thanks! blushes I'm honoured.

ShawThang - I hope it wasn't too exhausting…

_slayergirl_ - Yes, with Aragorn.

Sorrow1 - grins Buffy is gonna stir things up more than you know. I will be following the books canon wise but as you know the smallest pebble causes ripples in the water, and when the pebble's as loud as Buffy, those ripples are more like earthquakes. While I don't want to stray totally into AU, a bit of change is obviously needed. It's no more fun to write the same as the books as it is to read them. The PTB have more reasons than Buffy knows for her presence. As for Denethor, plenty of place-putting in this chapter and yes, Buffy is kinda gonna be like the energizer bunny…

Stubbles - where's the bad in it?

Sudy - That is a question Buffy herself hasn't even thought to answer yet. When she finds out, you do.

And major thanks to:

Alliana, Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe, Amy, Ana, Andrea, Anon, Dannii, Delphine Pryde, DragonStar, Evie, gaul1, goldenshadows, Irishsodabread, Jade1225, June, Ladybug Jess, moonbunny77, N'Isil, Packrat, plato, star, SuperDangerFrog, WickedMagic,

And thanks a million to new beta, Iceflame55!

CHAPTER THREE: THE BATTLE AT THE SHIPS PART ONE

War does not determine who is right, war determines who is left.

Buffy woke to the sounds of screaming, shouting, clashing steel and the familiar crackle of fire. Grabbing her mini-arsenal of weapons, - like she ever went anywhere, including bed, without them, - she charged out of her small little tent dressed in what the men would have considered scandalous, but to her was a pair of something like form-fitting leggings and tunic-style top.

Staring at the scene in front of her, she made a mental note to have a word, no, make that very strong words and an introduction to cold steel, with the sentries on duty. Hordes of Corsairs were not supposed to sweep down on camps without warning.

Buffy had been with Thorongil and Denethor's company in the south of the kingdom for two weeks now and this was the second time someone had gotten past their sentries. Of course, this was a hell of a lot more someones.

And not people who you would like to see coming. As far as she knew, these pirate guys and Gondorions had this major feud going on. Over what, she didn't know. But as she was on Gondor's side, they were the bad guys and therefore not supposed to be disturbing Buffy's sleep. Were they _trying_ to get her cranky? Because she was. Very cranky.

She'd already had to listen all the stupid soldiers snicker at her ever since she arrived. Not to mention that Aragorn kept staring at her like she was some sort of lab rat and he was the mad scientist and the lovely old stick in the mud Denethor seemed to fancy her. Euugh. He was _so _not her type.

Sighing, even as some dirt-covered Corsair charged her, (weren't these guys supposed to be pirates? She wasn't exactly seeing any peg legs.) she raised her sword, squared her shoulders, pasted on an annoying smirk and waded into the battle.

Someone was going to pay for this.

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Aragorn was seething. The sentries Denethor had hand-appointed had been remiss in their duties _again._ The Corsairs of Umbar had snuck in under the cover of darkness and attacked while most of the company was sleeping. Either the sentries were dead or bought. Either way, if Aragorn saw them, he would personally pitch them over a cliff.

The fight wasn't going good and he was worried for his men. They were heavily outnumbered and had been taken by surprise. He couldn't spare too much thought for them though as he was surrounded himself.

For some reason, they seemed to know he held rank amongst the Gondorions and were forcing him into a corner. He considered himself no dullard in the use of the sword or in combat but even an Elvish-trained Númenorean descendant couldn't hold off a group of twenty converging men at once. Maybe Elrond could with that trademark glare, or the twins with their ability to drive anyone insane or even Legolas, who could have disappeared from anywhere with all that sneaking of his, but not Aragorn.

And so he was slowly being trapped.

His sword moved in flashes of steel, cutting down any who tried to approach him but it wasn't enough.

As one, they swarmed him and the last thing Aragorn remembered was going down under a rain of blows.

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The snatching of Denethor was a little less dignified.

Having insisted on his tent being pitched near the edge of camp so that all reports would come to him first instead of Thorongil, he had the misfortune of being hauled out of his bedding by several Corsairs, who grabbed him and placed naked steel at his throat and chest should he get the idea to run.

A toothy Corsair grinned at him from the opening of the tent, "Ah, the son of the Steward. We meet at last. Ye'll do admirably as a rower. Terrible thing about the ships, ye know," he said conversationally, with a thick accent, "The damn slaves never seem to live very long. It's terribly inconvenient having to replace 'em all the time. But you should last a while."

He gestured to the other men even as an indignant Denethor opened his mouth to deliver a tongue lashing. Hauling him roughly, they bound and gagged him like a stuffed pig, muttering jeers and jibes under their breath as they did so.

Denethor was absolutely furious at being trussed up like some wild boar but had to settle for glaring at the man who was obviously in charge. Picked up by two brawny Corsairs like a piece of lumber, he was carted off even as his camp was systematically destroyed by raiding pirates.

Oh wasn't Thorongil going to have a conniption over this one, he thought darkly, anything for glory was the unspoken motto of that man. And Eru knew he would never miss the chance to have Denethor himself, his future leader, in his debt.

Not to mention that this incident wasn't going to do any wonders for his reputation. Steward's heirs simply did _not _get into situations like this.

Absolutely never.

So why was this happening to him?

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Worried hazel eyes scanned the terrain for any sign of the only two men that could possibly bring this rabble to order. Unfortunately, Aragorn and Denethor had yet to show up and the men were at a loss. No one group of them following orders of any kind, just fighting to stay alive and doing whatever seemed good at the time.

They were getting slaughtered one by one from lack of direction and Buffy wasn't seeing many candidates for the job of ordering them about. Which meant that screw Elrond's 'By Eru, you're posing as a healer, not a rabid she-warg!' admonishment, it was time for some slayerly action.

"Okay, listen up you lot of idiots!" she yelled, trying to gain their attention, "For Eru's sake, Gondorions rally! Over here before I have you hauled up for insubordination! Rally! To me! To me!" she bellowed in imitation of what she'd heard Aragorn yell during previous attacks.

The men, too engaged in their fights to question the strange voice followed her call. Once she realised she had their attention and they were actually listening to her, she started shouting out commands. "Okay, left flank stop those Corsairs from torching the supplies! You lot form a line, archers to the rear! Wounded get to safety! The rest of you, let's chase those stinking pirates out of our camp before we completely miss breakfast!"

And amazingly, they did as they were told.

And Buffy the Vampire Slayer relished in being the one giving orders for a change.

And even better, Buffy the Vampire Slayer was _winning_.

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Silence reigned in the newly reclaimed Gondorion camp. The Corsairs, having met unexpected resistance, and unknown to the Gondorions, having got what they came for, had skedaddled back to wherever they had come from. So the Gondorion soldiers, had finally seen exactly who was in the middle of the now thoroughly destroyed camp, holding a bloodied sword, looking thoroughly annoyed, and very female.

The soldiers stared.

Buffy glared.

There was silence.

At least until one loudmouth decided to make his opinion known, "What possessed you?" he roared in incredulous disbelief and highly offended that he hadn't found out sooner, "You're a healer, and judging by your age, a novice one at that! How dare you interfere with a battle! Were you _trying_ to get us killed?!"

Buffy was cold, blood-covered, tired, miserable and had a pounding headache. She was _not_ in the mood to be told off by some dumb-ass. "Listen up buddy," she snapped, slipping back into her native Californian-speak, "I saved your sorry ass, so what you should be saying, is 'Thanks Eliza, you saved my life.' not making me mad. In case you didn't notice, it was not as if anyone else decided to step in!"

"You gambled men's lives on the words of an over-arrogant untrained healer!" he shouted back, planting his sword in the churned up dirt that was the ground in disgust.

Buffy took a couple of deep calming breaths, mentally counting to ten. It didn't work. "I've done a pretty good job so far and might I say, that you don't know me, so who the hell are you to judge me? And second of all, I'm going to be in charge around here until our missing captains are dragged out of their bedrolls, where they'd better be, if they wish to live. Now, if anyone has any problems with that, they can come up here and challenge me like a warrior, instead of shouting at me like some moron. Any questions?"

Loudmouth stepped forward and Buffy's dagger sailed through the air, missing his cheek by an inch and sinking into the dirt, "Next time I don't miss," she warned, "Anybody else?" she said with a dangerous smile.

No one moved.

Buffy rubbed her hands together in satisfaction, "Good. Now let's get down to business."

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"How can they just be gone?!" Buffy exclaimed in disbelief, glaring fiercely at the unfortunate soldier acting as messenger.

"They seem to have been… taken by the Corsairs," he reiterated, his distaste obvious that the Corsairs had actually gotten one up on the Gondorions, "There were signs of a struggle around Captain Thorongil's tent. His sword was found there," he said, showing the weapon to her, "He never goes anywhere without it."

"And Denethor?" Buffy asked, already feeling a headache coming. Why couldn't that blasted man stay in one place for once? But nooo, that was too convenient, he just _had_ to get himself carted off to who knows where!

"Lord Denethor wasn't found either," the soldier said uncomfortably, "Not much signs of a struggle but if they were after the captain, they wouldn't have left the Steward's son behind."

"Lovely." This would usually be the time where Giles went 'Dear Lord'. How was she supposed to find them now? "Send out half a dozen scouts to look for them, get everybody ready to move. And I'll be taking a nap so wake me up in a couple of hours and let everyone be warned that if I wake up to find those stupid sentries have let in some more visitors, I will make your lives a living hell!" Flashing the perplexed and intimidated soldier a bright smile, she disappeared into her tent.

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"And I never really sleep anymore  
And I always get those dangerous dreams  
And I never get a minute of peace  
And I gotta wonder what it means"  
- "It Just Won't Quit -- Meatloaf

In her sleep, Buffy shifted restlessly as images invaded her mind.

There were boats in a harbour, campfires scattered on the grounds away from the dock and the usual ruckus that was men of war letting their hair down. Her gaze focused in one boat in particular and then suddenly she was in a cramped cabin. Jolted a little by the sudden move, she looked around in a mixture of shock and curiosity. There was a dark-haired man sprawled out on the tiny, uncomfortable looking bunk nearest to her. Closer inspection revealed that it was a badly battered Aragorn. Just what had the man gotten himself into now? He had a few nasty cuts, a multitude of bruises in nearly all the colours of the rainbow and was out cold.

She shook her head in a mixture of disgust and annoyance, a man that trouble-prone needed a keeper. But why did it have to be her?

The door was opened roughly, rusty locks scraping together, and another battered man was shoved in and dumped unceremoniously on the floor. Well, at least she knew where Denethor was.

She looked in disgust at the filthy, leering pirate who seemed to be enjoying manhandling Denethor. Taking her chance to look around the room, she saw that there were no portholes and that the stretch of hall she could see through the open door was devoid of movement.

As the door slammed shut, she idly wondered was she seeing the past, present or future. Both men looked in need of medical attention, and in her opinion, a nice good leash to keep them where they were supposed to be.

The dream went fuzzy and Buffy found herself staring at the ceiling of her tent. These dreams were just freaky. Looking on the bright side though, at least she knew where they were now.

But how in Middle Earth was she supposed to get them out?

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Flashback: Rivendell

Buffy burst into laughter as the twins regaled her with the tale of their latest misadventure (and their subsequent punishment.) Even though they were almost three thousand years old, Elrond still knew where to hit them where it hurt.

"I'm so glad I met you guys. It's entertaining, really." Buffy said through gales of laughter as they finished telling her how Erestor had chased them right into a waterfall.

They both pasted wounded expressions on their faces, "Oh fair lady, thou hast wounded me with thy cruel words!" Elladan exclaimed, hand on his heart in mock drama.

"To think that all we do is amuse you!" Elrohir continued, "The lady does not swoon as she should when in the company of two such fine Elves."

Buffy levelled the 'you've got to be kidding me' look she'd learned from Arwen, combined with the 'you don't fool me' raised eyebrow she'd picked up from Elrond on them, "That might work on tavern maids in Bree but I prefer my boyfriends less.. clownish."

Elladan swatted her, looking offended, "I'll have you know that there's a multitude of maidens who'd kill for the chance to catch us." he declared.

Buffy smirked, "Oh, there's plenty who want to catch you. Of course, a fair number of them probably want to kill you in retaliation for some of your mischief."

Elrohir laughed at his brother's scowl and congratulated Buffy on getting one up on him, "But to be perfectly serious Buffy, we do have a favour to request of you."

Buffy was immediately wary, "The last time you asked me to do you a favour, I had two cooks trying to pound me with their rolling pins! Do you really expect me to take the heat for you two rascals _again_?"

"Now Buffy," Elrohir admonished, "Don't think like that. We're not trying to get you into trouble, however amusing the cooks' wrath was."

"Yes, we want to talk to you about Estel," Elladan continued. Buffy listened guardedly, it was never good news when they did the twin-speak thing.

"You see, he has this strange ability to get into trouble…"

"And now we know you're supposed to keep an eye on him so we thought,"

"That we'd fill you in on all the little tricks Estel is capable of."

"Not to mention his peculiar aversion to baths…" Elladan said, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Elrohir nodded his agreement as Buffy marvelled at the bizarreness of it all, "Yes, he tends to be very stinky on the trail. One would almost think him an orc. You must take care to ensure he bathes regularly or you won't want to be anywhere near him. Take our word for it. Even Ada thinks it, he's just too polite to say it."

"And to move on to more serious matters, we regret to inform you that,"

"However much we like you, which we do, after all 'tis not often one can take us on like Arwen can, that,"

"If you harm one hair on little Estel's head, we,"

"Will have to hurt you."

"He's our brother after all,"

"Can't let the slayer beat him bloody."

"Wouldn't do well for his reputation at all,"

"So, do you understand?" Elrohir finished, "Hurt Estel and we will have to hurt you. Brotherly honour and all that."

Buffy just smiled sweetly, "I kicked Glorfindel's ass, you know, your _teacher,_ so I'm not really that worried about you two. But because I think that underneath that goofball threatening session I think you sincerely want me to look after Aragorn, I'll agree. I'll keep an eye on your baby brother for you." The smile turned evil, "And when he asks why I'm mother hen-ing, I'll be sure to tell him that you made me promise. Not to mention repeating the 'little Estel' remarks."

Elladan looked her over, "Are you sure you aren't evil? Because I swear Arwen's been teaching you some of her evil, evil ways."

"You betcha," Buffy agreed cheerily. "Just think on that the next time you put spiders in my bed. Wouldn't want to end up at me _and_ Arwen's mercy would you?"

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Aragorn awoke to a pounding headache and trying to raise his hand to the source of his irritation only caused the rest of his muscles to make their pain very clear. A sharp, annoyed voice cut through his confusion and drew his attention, "Are you awake yet?" Denethor demanded, "By Eru, one would think your head would be hard enough to withstand a landslide but apparently, the oh so great Captain Thorongil acts like a baby when he's wounded."

"Be quiet Denethor," Aragorn growled, cracking his eyes open and wincing as the light made his head pound all the more. "What in the name of Udûn happened?"

"Oh nothing much," Denethor said, "We've just been captured by the Corsairs, who know exactly who we are, our camp was being overrun and destroyed the last time I saw it and apparently the Corsairs have a wish to torture us. What could possibly be wrong at all?"

Acknowledging that he was indeed bound, he had been dumped near an apparently foul tempered glory-seeking lord who was close to hysterics, Aragorn wondered why Eru hated him so. "How badly were the men hit?" he asked.

"They had as much discipline as men engaging in a tavern brawl," Denethor said dryly, "The Corsairs were trouncing them. I wouldn't hold out much hope of a rescue. If the Corsairs left any alive, they will be too badly injured and demoralised to be much help and if none are left alive, then Eru knows how long it shall be before my lord father hears of this."

"Brilliant," Aragorn muttered, "Have you any idea what they want with us? This wasn't some random raid."

"Apparently they want to force information out of us and then either kill us or put us to work on their ships to see how fast we die under the strain," came Denethor's answer, whose tone was annoyed, mortified and disgruntled.

"Where were you during the fight anyway?" Aragorn asked, moving his hands in an attempt to restore some circulation.

Denethor started admiring the scenery, "I was in my tent." he said finally.

Aragorn finally looked at the other man and noticed the heavy night robe, "You slept through _that_ brawl?!" he exclaimed in disbelief. And this man called himself a warrior?

"Some of us don't sleep so lightly as to be like a criminal on the run with guards in pursuit," Denethor sniffed, "The slightest thing startles you. Eru help your wife, if you ever manage to find one."

"Speaking of women, why did they risk so much to come after us two only? They risked so many men and took only us? Why not take the lady Eliza as well when she was there? You know the Corsairs' reputation."

"We are the two highest ranking captains of Gondor and I am the Steward's heir. Why wouldn't they be after us?" Denethor scoffed. "They probably want information on my father's defences and plans or they want some money and will ransom us. Knowing those blasted pirates, they'll try both, go back on their word and kill us when they're done."

"It's always nice to know I can depend on you for optimism Denethor," Aragorn said wearily, "I don't suppose in all your time awake, you've found some way to get us out of this mess?"

He took the other man's silence as a no and found himself getting angry. "By the Valar," he growled, "Are you good for anything? Or are you too pampered to bother with the spilled blood of battle?"

"Are you questioning my honour to my people?" Denethor said darkly, bristling with anger.

"I'm questioning your skill when it comes to war," Aragorn sneered softly, "I'm sure you're fine enough in a room debating the facts but when it comes to the battlefield, you go to pieces whenever you're in danger."

"Just because I'm not foolish enough to look for trouble like you Thorongil doesn't mean my courage is lacking."

"I didn't know you had courage," Aragorn replied, "The only courage I have seen from you is the ordering of other men to their deaths,"

"You call me a coward and a knave?!" Denethor snarled, voice rising.

"I think you're a pampered boy who thinks too highly of himself!"

"Well, at least I'm not a bastard born and raised so I hear!" Denethor shouted, "Living off the generosity of others! Others may praise you but I know you're nothing better than a good for nothing lout!"

"You've always been foolish!" Aragorn yelled back, "Thinking you were so much better than everyone else. You're not fit to rule a vegetable garden!"

"At least I was born to it! You just try to usurp my place! With my father, with my people, with everyone! You cannot be me Thorongil!"

"Like I would ever want to be you! Every word out of your mouth is a disgrace to your father!"

"Oi!" shouted one of the Corsairs who'd been listening to the fight with growing interest and some amusement, "What's goin' on over 'ere?!"

The two enraged captains either didn't notice or didn't hear so the pirate called for some more of his mates and they all waded in. Two each grabbed one of the captains and hauled them apart, getting their attention.

The ranking Corsair wasn't pleased. "How are we supposed to have a nice revel if ye two are yelling yer heads off?" he demanded angrily, "Ye two are here to be seen and not heard 'til we want ye to cough up all ye know or we be wanting answers off ye. But since ye obviously can't behave, ye'll have to be taught a lesson." He gestured to his half-drunk companions, "Have fun m'boys. Ye can have these two runts for the night. See if ye can have some fun with 'em. No killin' boys an' make sure they're not hurt real bad. We'll want 'em on the morrow."

Aragorn and Denethor traded wide-eyed glances as the bunch of leering pirates closed in. Somehow, Aragorn didn't think he was going to like what the Corsairs considered 'fun'.

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A/N: So? Opinions welcome. Please read and review!

Question: if there is to be a secondary love interest for Arwen, who do you want it to be?

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Next chapter: Buffy leads the Gondorions to the rescue. Some uncomfortable times for the two captains at the hands of the Corsairs. And the Corsairs find out just what it means to have a slayer mad with you.

Please READ and REVIEW!!!!


	4. The Battle At the Ships Part 2

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Thanks for all the reviews! They're really appreciated!

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Review responses:

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Anna - Sorry for disappearing on you! I didn't mean to!

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Anonymous - Yes, Buffy will be with the Fellowship.

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Arkee - Sorry but Buffy is already taken so no Buffy/Arwen. That would just screw with Aragorn's head _way_ too much!

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DOG-SEJR - History Repeats Itself will hopefully have another chapter before the end of the summer.

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Herald-Mage Brianna - Buffy is going to be a bad, bad influence on nearly everybody.

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Jackie chan - blushes Thanks a million!

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Jania - Thanks, the best compliment an author can get is when somebody likes their story without being overly fond of the genre.

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Pretty purple penguin - no Buffy/Legolas action I'm afraid.

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Lisette - I totally agree with you. The nobles of Gondor will be stuck up and doing lots of 'my lord-ing' and 'my lady-ing' but I always think that anyone in the army becomes very proficient in the many and varied uses of cursing everything and anything to the nine hells. Also I agree with the Elves being very proper but my Elladan and Elrohir are going to be troublemakers, pranksters, rebellious little elflings so they're not gonna behave unless the situation is really serious or they've got Elrond or Galadriel breathing down their necks. When they have to keep up appearances they will, but I think they would loosen up around their friends, especially ones that will tease them for 'Giles-speak'.

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Meira - No, I'm still working on 'A Light to You…' I hope to have the next chapter up within a week or so.

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N/A - I like your idea.

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Shadow Master - oooh, we have a mix-up. This fic will be Buffy/Aragorn eventually - _with_ Arwen's blessing. I always found that the Buffy/Legolas pairing has been overdone so I chose a different one.

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ShawThang - Yeah, I know Buffy's not invincible. She's not about to suddenly become invincible either. She may have her whole ass-kicking slayer thing with the vision thingy but Galadriel, Elrond, Saruman, Gandalf and a good number of Elves can do magic and are really strong in a different way besides martial prowess.

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Stone Cooper - He won't find out for another few chapters yet but suspicions are already mounting and well, Buffy isn't exactly keeping a low profile. Even Denethor will notice that she's not exactly normal.

And major thanks to:

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Aleviel, Andrea, BB, Dannii, Delphine Pryde, DragonStar, Cataclysmic, Elvenseraph123, Haley, immortalwizardpirateelef-fan, Jess aka BRTW, Lady Phoenix Slytherin, LostMarbles, Renna, SJ,

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CHAPTER FOUR: THE BATTLE AT THE SHIPS PART TWO

When Aragorn and Denethor encountered each other again, their circumstances were considerably worse than previously. After their rather vocal argument the previous night, both had been carted off separately to be interrogated.

Needless to say, it hadn't been a pleasant experience.

Finally, as the light of Arien climbed higher in the sky, the Corsairs grew weary of attempting to get the reticent Gondorions to speak and had abandoned them in favour of leaving the ships to see about getting some food. According to them, torture was hard work.

Their victims would have disagreed if they had been conscious to do so.

Aragorn's unconscious form had been dumped on a cramped, uncomfortable bunk in a small windowless cabin. Mottling bruises decorated his skin and blood spattered his clothes.

He stirred groggily when a loud scraping sound make the ache in his head pound all the harder and he cracked his eyes open just in time to see Denethor get roughly thrown into the room. The other man looked to be in just as bad a condition as he himself was and seemed incapable of getting up from the floor where the Corsairs had dumped him before leaving and locking the door behind them.

"Denethor?" Aragorn queried, surprised at how hoarse and weak his voice sounded, "How do you fare?"

"I feel as though a troop of mûmakil had walked over me," Denethor muttered faintly, feebly lifting his head to look at Aragorn's tightly curled figure. "And if my eyes don't deceive me, the Corsairs took no heed of your infamous charm. You look as though you have fared as bad as I, if not worse."

"Aye," Aragorn said woefully, "The Corsairs have no love of Gondor and even less for her captains. They will not be satisfied until they have us grovelling at their feet."

"Something that cannot be allowed," Denethor said, "They are planning something, an attack against us I think, but I know not how to stop them from marshalling their forces or even how to get word to my father."

"You think none will come for us?" Aragorn asked, "You are Ecthelion's only heir and you have not yet taken a wife, let alone sired an heir to succeed you. Your father will have no choice but to come else the house of the stewards is ended forever."

"Gondor does not have the strength to hold all it's borders and come for us. We are too heavily assailed as it is." Denethor said in despair.

"Surely someone from our company will have sent word to Minas Tirith. I cannot believe that such a force could be taken down with such ease by this rabble."

"Even the best men die quickly when they are outnumbered," Denethor pointed out, "And I know of none who could take such initiative as to take charge of the company. I clearly recall seeing two of our lieutenants getting plied with arrows as the pirates took me. They were targeting the officers. None will come. None _can_ come."

For a moment, Aragorn felt the far away sensation of foresight and he went rigid as the knowledge flashed through his mind. A startling image of Eliza, blood spattered, wielding a sword with astonishing dexterity came to him and he shook his head to clear it. Surely that couldn't happen. But his foresight never failed to see true…

As his head cleared, he heard the other man's disparaging words.

"You might as well stop dreaming Thorongil," Denethor said dismissively, "No one will come for us."

But for all that logic lent credence to Denethor's words, Aragorn couldn't shake the certainty that someone _was_ coming.

He just hoped they'd be in time.

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Deftly slipping the leather jerkin and chain mail over her torso, Buffy fastened the clasps and then securely tied her sword belt around her waist. Normally she wouldn't bother with such fare, it being completely alien to her due to never having worn it when she was the feared slayer of Sunnydale.

But here in Middle Earth, the Elves had convinced her that it was necessary. She wouldn't be able to dodge every arrow, every blow of a sword, and even though she healed ten times faster than the average man, on a battlefield, being wounded usually meant a swifter death.

She had issued orders for the soldiers to ready themselves to move out. No matter how weird it felt to command an entire company. The slayer part of her relished being in charge but the Buffy part kept pointing out that she had only ever taken charge with her friends and a bunch of potential slayers.

None of which had the training in arms that these men had. Even the potentials.

Warfare was a way of life in Middle Earth, and it wasn't the behind the scenes type of thing that slayers were used to.

She'd helped destroy bands of orcs with the Elves of Lórien and Rivendell but they were more open minded about her abilities. And the fact that she-Elves learned to fight as par for the course helped matters too. In most lands of Men, women didn't. Which really annoyed Buffy, 'cos she really didn't feel like waiting around for a few centuries for women's lib to kick in.

She had to give brownie points to the Rohirrim, they trained their women, called them Shield-maidens and had blonde hair like her. As well as being more to her taste, her colouring could have made her pass for one of them if she knew Rohirric. Which she didn't.

But the time for deep thoughts was over. It was time for her to go face the soldiers. And though she shuddered at the thought, they would probably be expecting some sort of morale boost.

Why did it always have to happen to her?

Buffy Summers liked banter and witty barbs. She did not do speeches.

Until now.

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Alright, Winston Churchill, Buffy thought as she studied the assembled group of sceptical soldiers, let's see how those speeches of yours work in Middle Earth. Of course, it remained to be seen if they worked Buffy-style.

Letting the innate strength of will of the slayer take over and completely abandoning the feigned meekness of 'Eliza', Buffy surveyed them all with a cool and commanding eye.

"I know you don't trust what I'm doing," she began strongly, and she saw several of them eye her in surprise. Even after her display of prowess during the last skirmish, they still didn't think she was someone worth listening to. They would just have to learn.

"Don't think I don't know what you say about me behind my back. And in regards to that stream of insults, let it be known that if I want your opinion on the skills you deny I have, I'll damn well give it to you! I'm not going to tolerate stupid actions just because of the fact that I'm a woman. Let me make this clear to you, we are not unsuited to battle, no matter how many times you say it. Get that through your thick heads. Anybody who wants to question that, I can cite a dozen examples and personally show you what an ass you're being. Any questions?"

No one answered. They just stared at her like she had two heads.

"Good! Now that that's out of the way, I can tell you exactly how we're going to get our two runaway captains back. Obviously the Corsairs have them, so we're gonna get them back and give the Corsairs a little reminder of who they're dealing with. We're not gonna sit back and take it while they stomp all over us."

"But we will be outnumbered ten to one!" one soldier exclaimed, dark eyes looking her like she'd gone mad.

"That's what the word 'ambush' is for." Buffy said with a manic little grin and a dangerous glint in her eyes, "Trust me, they'll never know what hit 'em."

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The Corsairs weren't what Buffy expected from pirates. No peg legs. No parrots. No stupid sashes. No hooks. No jolly roger. No Jack Sparrow look-alikes either.

They did have big black ships though, and an obviously much indulged fondness for alcohol. They seemed to be having a nice little party from where Buffy was looking at them. She'd volunteered to do the scouting because all that armour that the Gondorions absolutely insisted on wearing would probably make enough noise to wake the dead, let alone a bunch of drunken pirates.

Curiosity had nothing to do with it, of course.

She'd quickly found the crimson-sailed ship from her vision, slap bang in the middle of the little port. Which meant 'no sneak in the door, sneak right back out before they caught you' manoeuvre.

It had taken them a day and a half to catch up with the pirates and she hoped that the captives were still ok. Or at least as ok as a person could be when being held prisoner by brigands.

Slipping back to where she had left her men. She was really getting used to thinking of the company like that. They had _so_ learned not to mess with the slayer in General Buffy mode.

She almost couldn't wait to see how Aragorn and Denethor would react to being rescued by her.

Especially when Elladan and Elrohir found out. Aragorn would never live it down. Which left so much room for her to work with….

She could only snicker gleefully when she thought of the future blackmailing opportunities.

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"Right!" Buffy said after she had divided the men under her fledgling command into several groups. "I've got a nice plan here to ruin those pirates' party and each of you lot is going to have a different task. Besides the average killing and maiming anyway." she added as an afterthought.

Over the few days she'd been in charge, the men had started to develop a grudging, (ok, very grudging) respect for her and a hefty respect for her temper. Some of dear ol' Spike's insults worked very well on over cock soldiers.

"Now, before I start saying who goes where, I would like to issue this advice. Always remember to pillage _before _you burn. It gets so messy when you forget that," she said with a tone of almost fond remembrance, thinking of burning down the gym and then blowing up the school, and ignoring the men's somewhat perturbed looks, "We really don't want to burn captains Thorongil and Denethor to a crisp now, do we? I doubt Lord Ecthelion would be pleased at all."

"Ok, you lot!" she said pointing at the first group, "You get to sneak sleeping draught into their flagons of ale."

And so it went as she outlined her very destructive plans for the unsuspecting Corsairs; burning ships, lots of dead people, drunk pirates, arrows, ambushes, the utter annihilation of the Corsairs camp etc.

By the time the Gondorions were ready to depart, they didn't know whether to be in awe of Eliza's frightfully destructive imagination or to feel something akin to pity for the pirates about to receive her wrath.

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As the Gondorions set to their task, Buffy left the group of men that had been assigned bodyguard duty to the captains once they were freed and crept closer to the enemy camp. The sleeping draught in the great flagons of ale had worked well, and if most of the pirates were not half drunk, they were half-asleep from the drugs.

With her superior slayer eyesight, she could see the rest of her company creep towards their positions with the utmost stealth and caution. An ambush wasn't an ambush if the enemy knew you were coming.

Making sure the hood of her cloak covered her blonde hair, she stole forward into the night, and on swift feet, she quickly reached her destination, hiding herself in the shadows of the rigging.

Signalling the Gondorions to begin the evening's entertainment, she eyed the lofty rigging in askance before deftly starting to scale the ship. Even as she reached the deck, the first flaming arrows were finding their mark in the crimson sails and the hulls of the great ships. Soon, the camp was filled with shouting and screaming Corsairs as they abandoned ships too much aflame for them to put the fires out and the outraged and fearful shouts of the half-drunk pirates who were being cut down by an enemy which, to them, had come out of nowhere.

On deck, one swarthy, gaudily dressed fellow looked at her in disbelief, before charging at her with his sword. "Get off my ship ye bloody wench!" he snarled, lunging at her.

Pulling out her own blade, Buffy parried the blow and brought the hilt of her sword down on his head. "Aye, aye captain!" she said to his crumpled form, "Just as soon as I collect some friends of mine."

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Aragorn and Denethor heard the sounds of fighting and the distinct smell of arson. They looked at each other, "I think we may have been overhasty in disparaging our men," Aragorn said gleefully as he heard a familiar Gondorion war cry. "It seems they have come for us after all!"

Denethor didn't reply as there was suddenly a shuddering thump on the door and then the thick wood was wrenched from its hinges by some force.

When they saw the cause for this most unexpected entrance, both their eyes boggled in disbelief. Short, blonde, clad in armour and looking too cheerful to be real was Eliza.

Eliza the _healer_.

Who was holding a bloodied sword.

Aragorn started to draw himself to his feet but a stern hazel gaze fixed on him with a startlingly familiar expression and an even more startling tongue.

"Daro!" Buffy chastised, "Havo dad! Havo dad! You even _think_ of standing up and putting yourself in the line of fire for arrows before I let you out of here and I will kill you myself!" the fiery blonde admonished as she came through the now demolished door.

Aragorn felt his mouth fall open at her use of Sindarin. Not to mention the destroyed door. Who was she? He wondered. Suspicions clogged his thoughts and he swore to himself once they were out of danger that he would find out exactly what this 'Eliza', if that was even her name, was hiding from him.

"No need to look so overjoyed to see your rescuer," Buffy said, slightly peeved, "Come on, time to leave the Jolly Roger."

Denethor hesitated so Buffy grabbed his arm and hauled him out, sheathing her sword and ignoring Aragorn's incredulous look at entering a pitched battle with sheathed sword, she grabbed his arm as well and led them to the edge of the deck. Pushing a rope into Denethor's hands, she ever so helpfully gave the floundering man a little push so that he went sliding down the ship's side, desperately clutching the rope in his hands.

Aragorn, not wanting the same treatment, gracefully acquiesced to her demands and slid down to the ground, followed shortly after by Buffy.

As soon as Denethor and Aragorn reached the shallow water and clambered onto solid ground, a dozen of their company emerged from the shadows to surround them. Buffy dropped down next to them, and handed over his missing sword to a bewildered Aragorn.

Turning to the men, she issued her orders, "Get them out of here. You let them die, I string you up from one of those lovely big masts up there, got it? Now, I got to run. Try not to get into too much trouble." she said, directing the last bit at the two shell-shocked captains.

Even as the ring of bodyguards closed in, and started to herd them away, they watched the blonde woman dive into the thick of battle with a skill unparalleled by any other mortal and wondered exactly who and what she was.

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Lurching forward with what was left of his men, most half staggering, half running, looking over their shoulder in terror of seeing that fair-haired she-warg, come to have them for dinner. He didn't know how he was going to explain this disaster to his superiors. Let alone the loss of all their ships, their loot and their slaves.

Whatever the outcome, this only showed that they had underestimated the Gondorions. Or else their new weapon of mass destruction was too newly come to them for Gondor's enemies not to have word of her coming.

He'd probably die for his failure. His superiors weren't very forgiving of such things.

Strangely enough he didn't care very much at this point.

All he could do was run.

And hope that She didn't catch them.

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Buffy couldn't hold back an elated feeling as she watched the Corsairs turn tail and run. She'd won! It was her first battle with men, not orcs. And her first time being fully in charge. She didn't think she'd done a bad job of it anyway.

She didn't like killing humans, it went against everything the Watchers' Council had tried to drill into her. But her Elven friends had explained the necessity of such a thing in this world, especially when it came to those allied with the Dark Lord Sauron.

She still didn't like doing it, but she understood the need for it.

Her men hadn't suffered much losses, their tampering with the pirates' wine and their tactics of taking down as many as possible with arrows first had spared them any considerable losses or injuries.

They'd also manage to set free some of the slaves the Corsairs used to row their ships. Considering it took two hundred and fifty people to row each ship, it was a rather considerable number.

Of whom she was now in charge of.

Still, first things first, it was time to see to one overindulged steward's heir and one overly suspicious heir of Isildur.

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"Exactly _who_ is in charge here?!" Denethor demanded as soon as they had reached the safety of their own camp. "I thought lieutenants Jared and Feren were dead. I saw them slain."

"They are, my Lord," the soldier said, "The Corsairs targeted your seconds."

"Then who is in charge here?" Denethor repeated. "And what possessed them to send that woman after us?"

The soldier fidgeted as he babbled out his answer, hoping to escape before his captain's predicted wrath erupted. "Lady Eliza is in charge of the company, sir."

There was a pregnant pause, then, "WHAT?!" Denethor, son of Ecthelion bellowed loud enough to be heard from the Black Gate. Nearby, Aragorn raised an eyebrow in surprise, though not as shocked as poor Denethor, who had never fathomed such a thing in the entire course of his life.

But Aragorn had been thinking long and hard over all he knew about this puzzle of a woman and knew that she was a lot more than she seemed.

The unwitting bearer of bad news managed to slip away with much relief as the topic of discussion herself arrived back in camp, flush with victory.

Speechless, Denethor gaped at her for several moments before finding his voice, "YOU! What do you think you were doing, you straw-brained wench?!"

Buffy's eyes narrowed into annoyed slits, "Saving your worthless hide I believe," she answered coolly, "Be thankful I'm not in the mood to make you regret the day you were born. Now I believe it is time to see to your wounds?"

Aragorn watched with trepidation as a good portion of the company visibly winced at her cold fury or found errands to run somewhere far from her ire. He levelled pleading eyes on some of them, but they only shrugged sympathetically and followed her orders.

What spell had she put them under?

-------------------

Aragorn had suppressed a wince at the sounds coming from Denethor's tent. The healer was most certainly not making the procedure as painless as possible for the captain of Gondor. More like the opposite really.

And so when it came to Aragorn's turn, he was hardly without trepidation. "Are you going to inflict on me the same torture Denethor endured?" he asked with only a hint of sarcasm.

She shot him a bemused look, "He'll be fine. I just made sure his wounds wouldn't get infected. It's not my fault that all guys are cry-babies."

Aragorn didn't know what to make of that and so remained silent until she had finished tending to him. "You're off the active duty roster," she said while she packed away her supplies, "You're not fit for any action at the moment."

"And I suppose that will allow you to remain in charge?" Aragorn said wryly.

"If you wanted me to have let your men get slaughtered and to have left you in the hands of the Corsairs, you only had to say so. I'm sure the pirates wouldn't mind taking you back. Eru knows that it would make my life easier!"

He bristled at her tone, "Things do not make sense when it comes to you. I do not suppose you will explain these oddities to me?!"

"You're just tired, and all soggy." Buffy said, brushing off his suspicions, "You need some food and a good night's rest and maybe then you'll stop imagining things."

He grabbed her wrist, forcing her to look at him, "I imagine nothing lady," he said with chilly civility and a heavy underlying menace and distrust, "You speak Elvish, you wield a blade with such skill and strength that I have not seen in any other of the secondborn, excel at some of our customs and flounder at others, and seem to have the audacity to take charge of a company in which you bear no rank. And I think you hide behind a false name, just as you are here under false pretences!"

She wrenched her hand away from him, and an impassive mask slipped over his face, confirming at least some of his suspicions. She was too much on the defensive for it to be anything else.

"As I said Captain Thorongil," she said bitingly, brooking no argument, "You are in need of sleep. Don't make me drug you."

And then she left, leaving him to wonder over her.

And the unnatural strength with which she had broken his grasp.

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To Denethor, she was a glory seeking hound. One who would run roughshod over his reputation thanks to this humiliation of a so called rescue mission. He wondered over her, lusted over her. At times he despised her. At others, there was the faintest trace of awe.

But Denethor brooked no rivals to his skills, reputation or position. Already he had had to endure Thorongil's encroachment on his territory, his effortless way of winning the affection and loyalty of their forces and the Gondorion people.

Now it seemed that he had another rival for the glory he sought so hard. Yet another who sought to surpass him.

Still, he plotted, if he could but win her, her quickly growing infamy would work for him, not against him. After all, if Thorongil was indeed what he suspected, and what else could he be to be taken under the wing of one of the Istari, that dreaded Gandalf the Grey? He would need all the help he could get to keep what was rightfully his.

Gondor had no king, save it's stewards.

Gondor needed no king.

And if Denethor had his way, Gondor would never have need for any besides him.

Even thrice-damned Thorongil.

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To Aragorn, she was an enigma. Having grown up with the Elves, he had no silly superstitions as did the men of other realms. But even he knew that this Eliza was no ordinary woman. 'Pirates' Bane' the men had christened her. If only he could knew whose bane she might really be he might sleep better at night.

Her familiarity with Elvish reassured him but a little. The servants of the Enemy were many and treacherous. And not one of them would fail to desire the death of the last heir to Gondor's throne.

Perhaps it was time to write to his adar in Rivendell. And if Elrond failed him, Galadriel's mirror would beckon.

Until then, all he could do was keep a close watch on her. And hope that his fears were unfounded. He had seen how she handled herself. He meant what he had said to her. No mortal wielded such skills.

The Elves, he knew, possessed such strength but never any of the younger race. And she was no Elf.

Which still left his question unanswered.

Who and what was she?

--------------------------------

And so, fresh from victory and amid much speculation, Eliza the Pirates' Bane led the bewildered and mostly Buffy-whipped troops home to Minas Tirith.

Word would precede their coming.

Exaggeration would make the tales a modern legend.

Gossip would surround the blonde woman like a storm.

And the judgement of Ecthelion awaited…

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A/N: so? What do you think?

Next chapter: Ecthelion gives Buffy a little reward for her efforts. And Buffy's love life gets complicated.

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Daro - 'stop' in Sindarin Elvish.

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Havo dad - 'sit down' in Sindarin.


	5. Admiral Was A Lady

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Thanks for all the reviews!

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Review responses:

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Anna - hope this was quick enough for you!

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BuffyandDracoLover - She's gonna leave him hanging for a while.

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Delphine Pryde - So is he.

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ennui deMorte - Thanks! The greatest reward for a writer is to be told that somebody likes their story even if they don't normally like the genre or material! J And as for Spike, the Buffy of my story tends to prefer not to dwell on Sunnydale and its inhabitants too much as it usually leads to either fits of temper or waterworks. Spike did stand by her, but her feelings for him are all mixed up with memories she'd rather not remember. She can't go home so for her, it's time to move on. And as it's been about a year since she arrived in ME, she's had plenty of time to deal with it during her time in the Elven realms. I hope that explains it.

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Jess aka BRTW - Her wrath is indeed a thing to be feared. Just ask Glorfindel. Or Elladan and Elrohir. … or Denethor…

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Lunawolf - Everyone's asking about the ageing thing with regards to Buffy. Ok, the Elves know a lot more than they're letting on and poor Buffy thinks she's just like everybody else at the moment. She is not expecting it to take nearly as long as it will for the War of the Ring to come round. As for Buffy, and like what is done for Gimli in the future, the grace of Galadriel will procure something unexpected for Buffy. That's as much as I'm saying until it comes up in the story.

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Nobody - No, the Scoobies will not be showing up in ME.

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Pam - What will happen with Ecthelion is not going to improve Denethor's manners any.

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ShawThang - thanks! It's always nice to know I'm keeping B in character!

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Star - I love long chapters myself but what I find when writing long chapters is that there are way longer delays between updates. So as I have other fics to work on as well, I divided some of the chapters into two so that I can get the updates out quicker without sacrificing the pace of the story. And about Buffy's cover… Well, she's never been known for being discreet.

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SuperDangerFrog - Aragorn's intrigue is going to keep increasing because Buffy's not spilling the beans just yet. She's hinting but it's all rather baffling if you don't have all the puzzle pieces.

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Wild320 - Yes, this is going to be very much Buffy/Aragorn. Eventually after the Buffy/Aragorn/Arwen triangle is cleared up.

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And major thanks to:

BB, Destiny's Dragon, gaul1, Jania, scarlett caelian,

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CHAPTER FIVE: ADMIRAL WAS A LADY

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"Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up."

- James Baldwin

"Lord Ecthelion?" Buffy said, "You demanded my presence?"

"Yes," the ageing Steward replied, gesturing for her to take a seat, "I have heard many tales since your return, from too many sources to be taken for exaggeration. It seems that my son owes his life to you. As does Captain Thorongil."

Buffy really had to wonder where this was going. She hoped she wasn't about to get fired. "Well, I'm sure that they would have managed to make their escape eventually. But I felt it wasn't wise to wait to see if they managed to dodge the hospitality of the Corsairs."

Ecthelion looked at her with keen eyes, eyes that saw so much more than his son did, "I have known since our first meeting that you were a woman of exceptional talents. I admit that I had not expected them to be so very extraordinary or put to use so quickly but from the first I knew you were not what you claimed to be." He held up a hand to forestall Buffy's protests, "I am not asking you to account for anything. Your purpose here seems to be an altruistic one, else you would not have bothered to retrieve my captains."

"My Lord, I assure you that I have no ill intent towards Gondor or any of her people. And I really am a healer, if somewhat new to the craft."

Ecthelion chuckled slightly, "I am aware of that. I am also aware that 'twas not for my son's sake that you waged battle on the Corsairs but for the man who should be my son's liege lord."

"I beg your pardon?" Buffy managed to croak out, wondering how in earth, (or should she be saying Arda? she idly wondered) the amenable Steward knew so much, and hinting that he knew even more.

"I know that Thorongil, as he calls himself, should be seated upon the long empty throne of Gondor with the winged crown on his head and the sceptre of the north in his hand. I am not so blind as my son who loathes Thorongil's success. I see a man who will be king. Who is worthy to be king."

Well, the cat was royally out of the bag now, Buffy thought with some amusement. "And why are you telling me this?"

"Because for some reason, you guard Thorongil's back and I will not expose one with such a noble goal. Were it not for your colouring, I would have thought you one of the Dúnedain. Unless you have Rohirrim blood? I will not press you but I will aid you in your task, to reward you for your victory and to allow Gondor to take advantage of your skills."

"Politicians!" Buffy muttered, before questioning him, "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean to make you a Lieutenant of Gondor, under Thorongil's command. It would allow you more freedom while having a legitimate excuse to protect him."

"You'd trust me that much?" Buffy asked in disbelief.

"'Tis said that those of Númenóreon descent have touches of foresight, and while such gifts are seldom seen in the House of the Stewards in recent times, I do have it in some measure. I don't see treachery in your heart and so I shall trust you in this. Do you accept this command?"

"I suppose 'Lieutenant' does have a nice ring to it," Buffy mused, "I shall accept I suppose. This doesn't mean I have to wear one of those stupid uniforms? No offence, but I doubt they have all that lovely armour in my size."

Ecthelion's lips twitched slightly, as if suppressing a smile, "I think you can make do with the standard black over tunic with the white tree. After that I think you may wear the armour I was told you wore when harassing the Corsairs. I really have to offer you my heartiest congratulations on that victory. It has been many a while since the Corsairs have known the wrath of Gondor."

Surprised by the Steward's acceptance, Buffy found herself smiling. It would seem that she now had a very persuasive ally to help stop Aragorn's 'I-must-know-everything' complex from trying to unravel the mystery that was her.

-------------------

To celebrate the Captains' return, the victory over the Corsairs and Buffy's most unconventional promotion, Ecthelion held a great feast in Merethrond, the magnificent hall of feasts. Buffy was to have a place of honour, along with the two somewhat abashed captains, who felt that celebrating their extradition from a rather humiliating capture, especially in Denethor's case, was rubbing salt in the wound.

Buffy had been sent an expensive new gown, compliments of Ecthelion, to wear to the feast. She was sure it was pretty. It looked pretty. Problem was she wasn't exactly sure how to put it on. Clothes were a bit more complicated, and medieval, here in Middle Earth than what she was used to.

And the dresses she had worn before, mostly at Elrond's insistence, (not that she didn't like dressing up but because she found it really funny to rile the Elvenlord by refusing to swap breeches for a skirt.) were of a different style to the Gondorions'. She intensely disliked tight bodices, even if she did give kudos to the opportunities for secret knife and dagger stashing that they presented.

She hated fussing around with loads of tiny buttons on her own. A flexible slayer she might be, but she was ready to kill for a zip!

She spent an hour wrestling with the dratted dress, and was about to chalk it up as the first thing to defeat the slayer since she arrived, but luckily for her, Ioreth had stopped by to sort out her now somewhat redundant status of healer in Minas Tirith and rescued Buffy from the cloth ambush.

Finally dressed and ready to go, Buffy swept into Merethrond with the demeanour of one about to face a trying battle. And to her it was. So many manners to remember, so little good music. And no chips and dip. Gondorions were sticklers for tradition ever since the line of kings ended and she didn't doubt that there was going to be hell of a hard slog awaiting her if she didn't want to be classed as 'the savage'.

She'd had enough of Cordelia's taunting when she was in Sunnydale. She most certainly did not want to start up that social pariah thing again.

Really, her wit and puns were wasted here. So many understood nothing. Especially not the pop culture references. The social history here was more of a Giles-type thing, you know with the 'oh dear, Sauron just incinerated the king' and the 'oh no, the island's sinking into the sea! Help!' kind of background.

And while she could do the war talk thing with the best of them, the other officers and Lords didn't seem to agree. How she missed Elladan and Elrohir! If they made you mad, no one blinked an eye if you quite literally started brawling with them, everyone being too used to their antics to even bother blinking an eye at the addition of one to their number.

Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly when she thought about it, she liked shaking things up. Chaos was fun, especially when it was let loose against someone with a big stick up their ass.

And when it came to chaos, Elladan and Elrohir were masters. Arwen was no slouch in that department either, she just didn't get caught nearly as often and so was considered the 'good' one of the trio.

Being ushered to her seat by a gaping herald, she looked to either side of her and groaned. Why, oh why did she have to be seated between Aragorn and Denethor?! She'd have one treating her like she was a helpless, if uncouth, maiden who never found out exactly how the Corsairs had taken him. As if she didn't know she'd scoffed, when he'd claimed not to remember, the man tried _way_ too hard.

And on the other side, there was Aragorn, who seemed to be trying to bore a hole in her with his eyes. She'd heard the tales of his childhood misadventures from Elrond and the twins and knew that he was anything but blind. He'd suspected something from the start and her timely rescue of his sorry ass had done nothing to dissuade him from his personal investigation. He watched her like a hawk, was as paranoid about her as Anya had been about bunny rabbits and wasn't someone she wanted as an enemy.

Anyone who had grown up under the tutelage of Elladan and Elrohir was bound to be as devious as them, maybe even worse if they really tried.

If he really tried, or his uncanny foresight kicked in, he could probably figure her out.

Which was something she didn't want to happen. She'd tell him on her own terms, in her own time thank you very much!

If she timed it just right, she might just be able to make him walk into a wall or something.

The very thought cheered her up immensely.

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Lost in her thoughts, Buffy didn't notice the great interest she generated in the hall. The favour she had earned with Ecthelion along with her acts against the Corsairs would have set tongues wagging on its own. But to be the first female lieutenant ever and to enter Merethrond blatantly wearing something she shouldn't have been able to afford by her own means, only set the room ablaze with gossip, about her mysterious origins, her breeding, her ambitions, and with each theory the tales around her grew.

She was a Shield-maiden of Rohan. She was an illegitimate child of Ecthelion. She was a spy for the Dark Lord, a gold-digging witch from the wilds, a lecherous woman after Denethor's future wealth, a spy for the Easterlings, Thorongil's mistress, a peasant seeking a title… all these and many more were bandied about the room with glee by the gossipmongers, with Buffy for the moment oblivious to them.

The dress she wore was made of snug dark blue velvet, richly trimmed and decorated with embroidery. While she was much shorter than those descended from the very tall Númenóreons, she had a presence which more than made up for her lack of height.

And as she was contemplating the best way to keep two unruly captains from asking too many awkward questions, she failed to notice the multitude of eyes watching her every move, believing that it was standard for the high table to be stared at.

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Buffy was thoroughly bored by the time the dancing started. She'd been fending off Denethor's not so subtle advances and Aragorn's all too subtle questions about her past for the last two hours. Really, did the eating portion of the evening have to take so long? Even though she didn't do the dancing of this place, no swaying and bopping to the beat here, she was relieved to finally have an excuse to ditch the two stooges.

She'd found a nifty little corner, hidden in a shadowed alcove and with a great view of the rest of the room, to hide in. Happily sinking into the stuffed chair, she barely resisted the urge to curl her feet up under her and make catty comments about the various snobby Cordelia-at-her-worst wannabes making the rounds of the room.

And so when Aragorn found her, she was ready to curse him out for his ranger skills. What was it about the Dúnedain and shadowed corners?! This one was hers! He could go skulk elsewhere!

But when he showed no signs of leaving, instead looking at her with a serious and slightly menacing expression, she sighed and flashed him an annoying smile. "Yes, what do you want? Or are you going to stand there, gaping like a big fish, all day?"

Grey eyes narrowed, "You are forward, lady."

"I can also go backwards and sideways too!" Buffy said in her best 'aren't I an airhead?' voice, being deliberately obtuse to yank his chain.

Apparently Aragorn decided to abandon the polite method of doing things, "Who are you? _What _are you?" he stated bluntly, folding his arms across his chest and expecting an answer.

Unfortunately for him, Buffy Summers wasn't easily intimidated. "Eliza, formerly a healer, now your lieutenant! Did I leave something out of our previous introductions, horse boy?"

"I do not know how you fooled Ecthelion, and I care not how you fool Denethor, but I am by no means stupid. Skill and strength such as yours is not granted to the mortal races."

"It's a result of many years of training and kicking butts. I'm really good at it. What else can I say?"

Aragorn smiled dangerously. Well, he was most definitely persistent Buffy thought with some consternation. Good for him, bad for me. "'Tis said that Sauron can grant such boons to his servants. Would you be one of them?" His hand had slipped down to the hilt of the sword that he always wore at his side, subtly and not so subtly implying his threat of imminent dismemberment.

"Listen here, _Thorongil_," she snapped, placing undue emphasis on his alias, "I am as much Sauron's servant as you are. All these accusations are getting annoying. If you have a point in coming over here, get to it or else go get lost!"

"I think not," Aragorn said quietly, "Too much stands unaccounted for in my dealings with you. I will not leave you alone 'til I have the answers I seek."

"Well, then you're going to be following me around for a long, long time, 'cos I don't respond well to threats."

The menacing light in his eyes chilled so that they resembled a glacier for all the warmth in them, and he looked around the room for any that might be observing them. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, his next action was so quick, it took even Buffy by surprise.

Yanking the nearby curtain across the alcove, so that nobody could see what was going on, he leaned down and very firmly placed his arms on the armrests of the chairs, leaning over her and blocking the clearest avenue of escape. "I am not in the mood for games, nor do your lies deceive me. Tell me what your purpose here is or I will make sure you are thrown out of the city forthwith."

"You have a high opinion of yourself indeed if you think you can just chuck me out of here without any opposition. I think Lord Ecthelion would be displeased if that was your normal method of greeting your lieutenants."

"And he would be most displeased if I were to go to him with all this interesting information about you, lady. I would think the warm welcome you have received of late would cool considerably in the face of his ire."

Well, talk about playing hardball. And in a public place too. Time to disabuse a ranger of yet another silly notion, "You make the mistake of thinking Lord Ecthelion doesn't already know why I'm here," she said, smiling disarmingly. "And threatening me as you are doing is not the best way to get in my good graces. I assure you, you wouldn't believe the things I know about you, ranger of the north. So I would suggest you remove yourself from my presence right now before I get cranky."

Grabbing her by the arms, and yanking her upwards so that he towered over her, he shook her lightly and hissed, "What did you call me?"

Buffy felt a little flutter in her stomach at the strength of his grip. Apparently his Númenóreon and Elvish heritage hadn't waned as far as many people thought it had. His grip was nearly as strong as an Elf's, even if he still wouldn't match one in the long haul. This wasn't private Riley who thought he had to be strong to be a man, Aragorn was much stronger than she'd anticipated. She had to wonder how he'd fare against her. He was the only not undead or supernaturally souped up man she'd come across that was close to matching her.

"Suilaid Dúnedain of the north." Buffy repeated in Elvish, "I mean you no harm, hir neth, but you _will _be harmed if you don't get your hands off me very snappy."

Aragorn's eyes widened in surprise but his grip only tightened even more, yanking her against him. He would have left bruises if she was an ordinary woman. "Why do you say that? How do you know Elvish? Why tell me this?"

"I know you're one of the Dúnedain. Your purpose is your own." she said placidly, hiding her growing anger at being treated this way. But then a little voice inside her head reminded her that she'd landed herself in this rather uncomfortable position. And if she really listened, which she didn't, she might have noticed the little voice saying that it really wasn't that uncomfortable at all.

"Who sent you?" Aragorn snarled, convinced more than ever that Sauron had at last found the sole living heir to the throne of Gondor and had sent this… woman to kill him.

"No one sent me," Buffy lied easily, "'Tis not hard to recognise one of the Dúnedain, even amongst the men of Gondor. I have met some of the rangers of the north before, they often wander around Bree and the northlands. Now, let me go before I make you do it." Her tone hardened and Aragorn felt her muscles bunch in preparation to throw him off.

Having seen her in action before, he didn't hesitate to believe that she would do as he said. "Be iest lîn," he said, releasing her and taking a step back. "But we still have much to discuss."

Buffy adjusted the rumpled sleeves of her dress, "I would think we have very little to talk about. You just assaulted me, accused me of being a spy for the Dark Lord, who I do not like by the way, - ghosts and unfriendly spirits are so not my thing, and have been as rude as a Dunlending savage. I think you owe me an apology!" she demanded, placing her hands on her hips and glaring up at him.

"Amin hiraetha, hiril nîn, you have my sincerest apology for the rough manner in which I treated you, but you still have much to explain before I let you leave here."

"If you're so convinced that there's something strange about me, do you really think you'd be enough to stop me leaving if I chose to?"

"Many have underestimated me before, lady," Aragorn said levelly, holding his ground.

Buffy huffed, "Same with me, buddy. Now if you will excuse me, I'm leaving."

Aragorn tried to grab her arm but she was too quick and slipped by him, joining the throngs of people moving around the room and leaving him to stare after her in frustration.

-------------------

Having escaped the clutches of Aragorn, her luck escaped her once more and she nearly walked right into Denethor.

"Lady Eliza!" the steward's son slurred merrily, having imbibed much of the strong wine that had been freely flowing amongst the guests all night. "I am glad to have found you at last. I feared you had left early, and without escort."

"I can take care of myself, my lord," Buffy replied, trying not to laugh at the spaced out look on his face from the alcohol. Spotting Aragorn converging on her position, she slipped her arm through Denethor's, "How about we take a short walk around the hall, my lord?"

Denethor seemed pleased and the duo swiftly left the seething ranger behind. He silently led her to the now quiet area near the banquet table, before speaking, "Would you fancy a stroll outside, for some fresh air?" he asked.

Taking her chance to escape with a reasonable excuse/alibi in place, she agreed and soon they were walking along the near deserted halls of the citadel, leaving the revellers behind.

Tugging on her arm to halt her steps beside a window with a spectacular view of the courtyard, he fidgeted some and then turned to face her. "My lady, I must admit that I have been holding my tongue for some time now on this most important matter. Though I am confident that my attentions are returned, I have been hesitant to speak of such a great honour to your person…"

Buffy's eyes had widened impossibly as he went on. No, no! He cannot be doing this! Buffy screamed mentally, why did everything have to happen to her?! So busy trying to find a non-offensive way to get out of this mess, she missed when Denethor stopped talking and only came back to her senses just as he was leaning in to kiss her. And _grope _ her! Eeugh!

Slayer instincts took over and before he could even blink in surprise, she'd decked him.

"Eeugh! Oh my god, eeugh!" Buffy squealed in disgust, "What did I do to deserve Mr. Lame-o here having the hots for me?!"

Denethor was sprawled out cold on the floor, faintly smelling of drink and with a rapidly swelling bruise spreading across his face where her fist had impacted. Well, she sure knew how to attract them! But what on earth was she going to do with him? She didn't think anyone was going to believe that he ran into a door.

Her ears picked up on near silent footsteps heading her way. Oh no! She tried to find an escape route that didn't involve jumping out the window but to no avail.

Aragorn's only reaction to the strange scene was to raise an eyebrow in her direction. Obviously, he picked that look up from Elrond. Smiling innocently, she said, "My lord Denethor seems to have had a bit of an accident. I've been debating what to do with him. He's far too heavy for me to move alone. How fortunate your timing is captain!"

The look he shot her made it perfectly clear he didn't believe a word of it, "Lord Denethor had an… accident?" he repeated contemptuously.

She blinked guilelessly, as innocent as driven snow, "Well, what else could it have been? Surely no one would have dared attack the lord in his own citadel?"

Aragorn couldn't believe what he was hearing. She did the innocent act almost as well as Elladan and Elrohir. Almost. He wasn't going to believe one word she said, even if she batted those pretty eyes at him from here to eternity.

He'd seen her leave with Denethor, the guards at the hall's entrance had confirmed their departure and now the man seemed to have been knocked unconscious by a mean right hook. "I wonder how he got this bruise?" he mused aloud, having a very good idea how the man had gotten it. Despite himself, he found himself impressed with her. To knock a man unconscious with one blow was no small feat for one her size.

"I really have no idea whatsoever," Buffy said, "But really, all the excitement today has tired me out. I really must get going or I'll never get up in the morning. Do send my regards to Lord Denethor when he wakes. Good night!" and she scampered off down the hall, hoping that the drunken man wouldn't remember exactly how he'd gotten roughed up.

Standing over Denethor, Aragorn watched her stroll off, looking as if she had nary a care in the world, leaving him to deal with her mess. Well, he had better things to be doing with his time than babysitting Denethor, and then he left himself, figuring that the servants would find the man sooner or later.

-------------------

When she got back to her room, Buffy debated the night's events for a long time. She'd been denying something to herself for a while now, and the incident with Aragorn had only brought it to the fore.

She knew that she had had the hots for Aragorn for a while now. Who wouldn't? He was a hottie, non-evil entity, alive, smart and good with weapons. All of which were improvements on the previous men in her life.

But tonight had brought up something more serious, and she really didn't know how to and didn't want to deal with this right now. She had felt more than lust when he'd yanked her against his chest and quite frankly that scared her.

She's allowed herself to get too close. She'd begun to fall for Aragorn and that was a slippery slope with no hope of being able to climb back up again when you reached the bottom.

She didn't know why this had to happen. She didn't want to mess up her new life and she'd had too many bad relationships in the past to want to further mess up her life with them. She'd thought she'd had her little lusting under control. How wrong she'd been. Her feelings had taken a turn she hadn't expected and she honestly didn't know what to do.

She knew full well that he'd been in love with Arwen since he was a boy and while Arwen didn't return the feelings at the moment, there was very little chance that a man who had had his head turned by the Evenstar, the most beautiful Elven maiden to walk in Arda since the First Age, would turn his attentions elsewhere.

Not to mention that if Arwen did return his feelings, and only wasn't saying so because Elrond would throw a fit, then she'd be the sorriest excuse for a friend that Arwen had ever had.

She would get over this, she vowed. She'd had enough of pigheaded men. Not to mention that it was his destiny to someday be King, which would require someone who knew how to be a Queen. No, if she allowed her feelings to get any more out of control, then all she was in for was more angst, heartbreak, misery and the urge to castrate him.

Nothing would come of this, she swore. Absolutely nothing. She didn't really care for him at all, she reminded herself.

Then why did she feel so crushed?

-------------------

The next meeting of the Captains and their lieutenants was very interesting from Aragorn's point of view. Denethor's jaw had swollen up to nearly twice it's normal size and was decorated with a whole array of colourful bruises. Considering that it hurt him to talk, Aragorn considered it a vast improvement on his normal disposition, as it limited his ability to make snide remarks.

No one had found out exactly how the man had gotten hurt in the first place as Denethor had been unable to remember anything and so the son of the steward had had to endure being grist for the gossip mill and the victim of much teasing.

And of course, the real culprit wasn't talking.

Aragorn hid a smile as he watched Buffy seeming somewhat disinterested in the proceedings, even as she relaxed into her seat. It amused him to see her so, formidable even as she appeared so small in the high backed chair.

While he still had his reservations about her, he was more inclined to believe she meant no harm after the incident with Denethor. If she had been sent to do damage to Gondor or its people, she would have killed the man not punched him.

It had made him much more amenable to her good qualities and having observed her in the days since the feast, he had ascertained that she would bring a great deal of humour and liveliness to the sometimes stuffy ways of the Gondorions.

Now, if he could just find out what she was hiding, he might even go as far as befriending her…

Eru knows that if the twins had taught him one thing it was this; never make an enemy of a crazy person, (which summed them up) or a woman in a fury (which Eliza was quite often).

-------------------

As Aragorn smirked at the blonde woman and she retaliated in kind, Denethor slowly seethed in his seat. This latest humiliation inflicted upon him had only curdled his normally not so sweet temper even further and now he had to watch Thorongil take the lead in the discussions he was unable to participate in.

He once more had to admit defeat.

It was clear from watching them. Lady Eliza was not interested in himself one whit. Instead, her favour seemed to lie with Thorongil. Thorongil, the thorn in his side and bane of his existence. He had stolen his father's love, his people's love and now he had stolen back the very woman who Denethor had wanted to steal from him!

Thorongil took everything from him and Eru knew he probably had his eye on the long abandoned throne was well. Considering his tendency to usurp everything else, he wouldn't put it past him to seek that as well.

Well, Denethor had his suspicions about Thorongil and if they turned out true, there would be only one course of action left to him.

Thorongil would not take what was rightfully his any longer.

The revered Captain Thorongil would have to… disappear…

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A/N: So? What do you think? Please READ and REVIEW!

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Next chapter: Denethor's wedding is the setting for some surprises for Buffy and Aragorn. And Denethor finds the proof he has always sought….

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Elvish:

suilaid - greetings

hir neth - lordling  
Be iest lîn - As you wish

Amin hiraetha, hiril nîn - I am sorry, my lady.


	6. A Crownless King

FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Thanks for all the reviews! And look, this chapter is about 7000 words! Yay! And in case I wasn't clear before, this fic will continue all the way up to the Return of the King.

By the way, I would just like to point out that the Riddle of Aragorn would have existed at this time, as I think it was written by Bilbo. The Battle of Five Armies was in 2941, ten years after Aragorn was born and as the Dwarves and Hobbit passed through Rivendell, I assume this is when Bilbo first met Aragorn. Therefore I also assume that this riddle was long written by the time this chapter is set in.

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Review responses:

Anna - thanks for the compliments! The twins will have plenty of chances to compare Aragorn and Buffy though… hint, hint

Batgirl Beyond - Awww! Thanks! Hope you enjoy this chapter too!

Catlimere - Buffy is a most definitely unique woman. Especially in ME. Yes, Denethor is spiteful. After all, in RotK, he tries to burn his injured, unloved son alive because he himself went insane. Wouldn't you be proud to have him as a dad? And he does scream 'mine!' when it comes to who rules Gondor! And about Buffy's love life, I was just thinking that myself when I was writing it. Aragorn is a great catch isn't he? Pity about the fact that her competition is her gal pal, Arwen 'fairest of all' Evenstar. Talk about trying to live up to the impossible! And Arwen's feelings will be showcased as we go along. And the idea you had about the expression on Aragorn's face when Ecthelion told him who his new lieutenant was, I'm thinking about writing a flashback to show that. It would have been priceless indeed! And Buffy and Aragorn? Together? Make only _mischief_?! More like catastrophe! Remember, Buffy would have gone on to turn a town into a crater!

Charmedfanatic3000 - Yes, this fic will cover the FotR, TTT and RotK. Buffy's going to be very busy come the War of the Ring. So many stupid people to insult, so little time…

Crash-Bash - You know, I have a computer game with the exact same title as your pen name… Thanks for the review! And as for Denethor's declaration, considering the drunken groping and rather obnoxious air, I'd wait for more sincere sentiments…

Delphine Pryde - Denethor, always has been and always will be, an absolute idiot. But you're right, at least Boromir and Faramir came out of it. Obviously, they inherited everything from their mother.

DragonStar - cool! I like your new word! 'Buffyism'! J and yeah, Buffy will be spicing things up a bit further for dear ol' Aragorn!

Eliza17 - Yes, Buffy will be meddling with the Fellowship.

Haley - Denethor's always brewing something up. All the way up to RotK in fact but you will get to see a bit of his early attempts as well….

Herald-Mage Brianna - Every family is entitled to one mad person. cough Denethor cough Buffy's extra love interest so far has been Denethor, who she decked, and I have not yet determined to give her another. Though you have sent a nice plot bunny running around in my head. After all, Aragorn does need some competition… grins And there will be NO Buffy/Legolas or Buffy/Haldir. A girl can be friends with two cute Elves without trying to kiss them! The Glorfindel pairing is an interesting thought… but seeing as how they got on in previous chapters, they're more likely to kill each other than go all lovey-dovey.

Gaul1 - Gandalf will meet with Buffy in the future. And as for the Buffy/Arwen angst, I can't make it easy on them by having them write to each other. That clears up the drama _far_ too quickly!

Jess aka BRTW - I hope this was update was quick enough for you!

Lizdarcy2 - No, Buffy is not one of the Istari like Gandalf. There were only five Istari, all wizened old men. What she is in relation to Gandalf and his 'tasks' will be covered when the two meet in a future chapter. And yes, Arwen has already met Aragorn. See my answer to _ShawThang _for a more detailed analysis.

N/A - Aragorn's thoughts will be covered shortly, partly in this chapter, and he will be prodded along by some rather dangerous helpers…

Saint Maverick - Hope this was fast enough for you!

ShawThang - Has Arwen met Aragorn as a man yet? Yes and no. Aragorn is, from direct descent, a scion of Númenor and so he ages slower and lives longer than other men. In Númenóreon custom, the Kings of old relinquished the crown when their sons were ninety years of age, so I take it that the age that they would be seen as men and not as boys differed from the ordinary men with shorter lifespans. So at twenty, Aragorn would really still have been a boy, even if he felt differently, and especially so to a few millennia old Elf. Aragorn met Arwen, who greeted him as distant kin and foster brother, when he was twenty. He fell in love with her but she didn't fall in love with him 'til they met in Lórien in 2980 when Aragorn was 49. So, in my take of things, Arwen still thinks him a boy at this point in the story. As for Denethor, read on and see…

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And major thanks to:

Aleviel, Dragon pink (gee thanks!), _Jania, Malfeus_, _Night-Owl123,_

And again, major thanks to my beta, iceflame55!

CHAPTER SIX: A CROWNLESS KING

All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost,

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not touched by the frost,

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring,

Renewed shall be the blade that was broken,

The crownless shall again be king.

- the Riddle of Aragorn.

While Aragorn was reasonably sure that the mystery that was Lieutenant Eliza was no real danger, he of all people could not afford to take chances. And so, he decided to write to his foster father, Lord Elrond of Rivendell. At the very least, he would be able to confirm Eliza's claims of being familiar with some of the Dúnedain around Bree.

Adar,

I wish your advice on a matter that has been much bothering me in recent times. A healer attached to my company, who goes by the name of Eliza, has awoken such curiosity in me that it will not go away until I have the answers I seek. Short of frame, with long blonde hair and hazel eyes is how she looks. Deceptively fragile in my opinion. This healer after winning a great battle against the Corsairs of Umbar, who took two captains hostage, led Ecthelion to promote her to my lieutenant.

But ada, strange enough as the tale is already, there is yet more to tell. She has strength, speed and skill that I have not seen in any of the younger races. She moves more like an Elf in terms of fleet-footedness than the race of Men to which she says she belongs.

While she has not shown any signs of plotting against anyone save the pirates, my lack of knowledge about her makes me wary. Ada, she knows I'm one of the Dúnedain. I know not how but I fear if she knows that much, then she knows who their chieftain is too.

She has claimed to have a passing acquaintance with some of the rangers who frequent Bree. If you could set someone to check this and send a reply, it would put my mind at ease. From my limited knowledge about this woman, she is not one whom anybody would forget meeting. Especially those who make her angry. She seemingly has no fear of authority as evidenced by the way she punched Denethor, son of Ecthelion unconscious for an as of yet unnamed reason.

I would dearly value your advice on this matter, adar. While she has saved my life, I feel as though she's a lion on a fraying leash.

Estel

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Rivendell.

Though Elrond was aware that he really should be paying attention to what Erestor was saying, he couldn't help sneaking glances out of the window every few minutes. He wasn't the only one doing it, Erestor and Glorfindel were trying to be discreet about it but they were still looking out the window themselves.

The reason for this heightened level of paranoia amongst the residents was very simple. Not only were all the children of Elrond home for once, but the twins' closest friend amongst the Edhil, Legolas Thranduilion, was visiting the fair valley whilst conveying a message to Elrond from his father.

And 'twas well known that the twins' penchant for mischief only increased when their friend from the great wood was around.

Glorfindel and Erestor had every reason to be wary. Glorfindel had incurred the twins' wrath after he let slip a rather embarrassing childhood incident to Legolas, who had nearly fallen into hysterics from laughter. That had not pleased the terrible twosome, who incensed ever more by the teasing that the Wood-Elf gave them, had vowed to perform some horrible, nasty, fiendishly clever revenge on Glorfindel. Of the exact details of their threat, Glorfindel wouldn't say. The Balrog-Slayer feared little, but there were very few beings who didn't fear the twin terrors of Rivendell.

Erestor was wary simply because the twins' were not known for caring much about the safety of innocent bystanders when it came to thoroughly destroying the dignity of their victim. And because of his place as chief advisor, poor Erestor was in the line of fire so to speak because of the amount of time he spent with Glorfindel. Elrond could only pity him. Not even he and Galadriel together could tame the twins. And if one listened to Thranduil, nothing tamed Legolas. Not even the Nazgûl.

The sound of laughter and some angry shouting came through the windows once more and Elrond could have swore Glorfindel actually _jumped_! Obviously, Elrond had been poring over paperwork for too long. Dismissing the relieved advisor and jumpy seneschal, Elrond decided to take a look at what the pyn neth were up to.

Elrohir was sopping wet and soaked to the bone, looking absolutely furious and on the verge of killing something. Or someone. That someone would probably be the duo of Legolas and Arwen, who were holding an empty bucket between them and seemed to have ganged up on the younger of the twins for some reason. While the two culprits laughed as Elrohir chased them about, Elladan was flopped down on his back, snickering at his brother's plight. Which promptly led the younger twin to scoop up the now discarded bucket, fill it with water from a nearby waterfall and empty it on an unsuspecting Elladan.

"I will get you for that gwanur-neth!" Elladan roared and took up the chase while Arwen and Legolas looked at each other and then collapsed with the force of their mirth, watching the ridiculous display the twins were putting on.

He saw something unexpected then and he took a sharp breath as he recognised it. It was subtle, very understated but it was there. There was a quiet admiration for Arwen in the Prince's eyes when he looked at her. _A scion of one of the lords of Doriath might be enough to turn Arwen's head…_ he remembered the long pondered over words. He knew that both Oropher and Thranduil haled from the now long destroyed Doriath. Could Legolas be the one Celebrían had meant?

Oh Eru, please let it be so, Elrond prayed fervently. His youngest child, Aragorn, had been in love with Arwen since he was a boy. The coming of that infatuation he had been long warned about by his wife, but it was still a blow to see it come to pass. He loved Aragorn dearly, but the life of his only daughter was a price too heavy to pay.

He could not blame Aragorn for loving his daughter, but he couldn't let Arwen choose a mortal life because of him. Aragorn had aimed too high this time. Elrond did not want to break his foster son's heart either, but he would not willingly part with his daughter, even if Aragorn was the greatest of men still living.

But if his fears were to come to naught, and Arwen would choose an Elf as her love. Well, that was a different story, and though his heart ached for the pain it would cause for Aragorn, he would encourage it wherever it led.

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The Grey Havens. 2510, Third Age.

The family and close friends of the house of Elrond were gathered on the docks, saying their final farewells to Celebrían, Lady of Rivendell, before she sailed West. Having been attacked and abducted by orcs on her way home from her native Lothlórien, she had never recovered from her ordeal. Though her twin sons had found her and brought her back to their father, who healed her bodily wounds, all joy had left her life. If she stayed in Middle Earth, her fading was inevitable.

The only respite for her would be to sail to Valinor in the West, where she could heal her hurts. Thought it sundered her family apart, before her children had made their choice, she could linger here no longer. A year had passed since her abduction and she knew now that no matter how hard she tried to be strong for them, she would find no healing on the hither shores.

She embraced her husband, both having said their tearful goodbyes in the privacy of Círdan's house. Elrond would not follow her 'til his task on these shores was complete. Until Sauron was destroyed, he would not join her.

Elladan and Elrohir she embraced tenderly, imparting some last advice to her mischievous sons, "Try not to terrorise your sister, and when the time comes, return to me," she said tearfully. "Don't throw your lives away in hate because of this."

The twins had developed a worrisome all-consuming hatred for orcs that was terrifying to see unleashed. She had heard of their exploits from Glorfindel, who worried over their future, and she had no wish to see them die for their lust for vengeance.

But it was when she made to embrace her youngest child that she felt the most unsettling feeling come over her. While not as skilled as her august mother, she had inherited the foresight of her line and what came to her now was enough to have her staggering back, face white with fear and distress.

Ignoring the concerned exclamations of her sons and husband, she held her daughter close, pressing a kiss into the dark hair. Quietly, she spoke, knowing that the keen hearing of Elrond and the twins would pick up on her words, "Your choice lies before you daughter. To set sail with your father and reunite with me on the Western Shores or to stay in Middle Earth and be sundered from your family evermore."

"Why say you this naneth?" Arwen said in confusion. "Why to me and not to Elladan and Elrohir?"

Celebrían closed her eyes for a moment, and prayed to the Valar to give her the strength to do this, and then to leave afterwards, even now that she saw that her daughter's future was so uncertain. "Because nín Undómiel, I see you tempted towards a mortal life and it terrifies me that I might not see you again."

"But naneth, I have no reason to choose as such," Arwen said soothingly, seeing her father's growing distress as he stood behind her mother, "I will leave when Ada takes ship and we shall meet again in Aman. There is nothing to fear."

"So you say now," Celebrían said brokenly, "But you cannot say your heart will not be swayed by what is to come in the future. Just promise me one thing Arwen, that you will not confuse your heart's stirrings for true love. You will make your choice, I pray it shall not be the wrong one. The doom of Lúthien shall not avail you if your heart is conflicted nín Undómiel…" The silver haired lady trailed off as something else came to her, something that at least put a wan smile on her face, "Pay attention to a sister of the heart and you shall not be led astray."

Accepting her husband's arm, she whispered for his ear only, "Beware the one who will come to steal her heart. In Lúthien's image she was born, I would not have her die for her Beren. Guard her well hervenn." She discreetly pressed a piece of paper into his hand. It had been written last night when she had wanted to tell Elrond of what she had seen for their children's futures before the catastrophe that had befell her. He pocketed silently, dropping a kiss on her lips and led her to the waiting white ship.

Then, shortly afterwards, Celebrían took ship, leaving Elrond to shoulder the burden of what was to come.

But once he was alone in the room he was lodging in in Círdan's house, he drew out his wife's message and read it with no small amount of trepidation. But it was the lines referring to Arwen that gave him some small hope that the disaster of Lúthien's choice could be averted.

The message read, _"A scion of one of the lords of Doriath might be enough to turn Arwen's head… wish him well…"_

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Aragorn eagerly reached for Elrond's reply when it came with one of the messenger birds of Rivendell.

Ion nîn,

Must you get involved in everything that even hints of trouble? I assure you Estel, this Eliza's story, has been thoroughly checked out. The twins themselves vouch for her. I am not sure if that is meant to be reassuring or not, but they say that this woman has no connections to the Dark Lord and that she is well able to keep secrets. I concur. She is well thought of in Lórien.

I believe she is one that you can trust with your secret, if you so wish to disclose it. And I am well aware of her disregard for decorum. I am unsure whether she has been a bad influence on the twins or whether they have been a bad influence on her.

As for her other attributes, that is her own story to tell. Pray, stop harassing her about being a spy for Sauron and she might be more forthcoming, yes? Try some of that charm you used to swindle the kitchen out of all their sweet pastries when you were younger. And if that fails, offer her a new weapon as a peace offering. Elladan and Elrohir assure me that she would be delighted with a new 'toy'.

Try not to get yourself killed or I will set the gwenyn on you.

Ada

Well, that was informative, Aragorn thought in disgust. 'Well thought of in Lórien'?! The Galadhrim shot first and dumped the bodies later. How on earth did she get in there?! And a weapon as a peace offering? Knowing his luck, she would use it to kill him. And who in all of Arda called their weapon a 'toy'?!

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2976. Minas Tirith.

Five years had passed since Buffy's promotion and she had carved out quite a nice life for herself in the White City. Once Aragorn had his suspicions assuaged by his father and actually tried to see Buffy's good qualities, a friendship had sprung up. Respect had come later when he realised that Buffy was a very good person to have watching your back in a fight.

Of course, all their time spent together, on and off the battlefield, hadn't helped Buffy's lust bunnies any, she acknowledged morosely. Lust had become love. Love had become love-sick. Aragorn, while willing to have the odd dalliance here and there, was head over heels for Arwen. Which left no room for little ol' Buffy. It didn't help that he was such a great catch in her opinion.

After he got over the urge to interrogate her and accepted that she could do a lot of things others couldn't, for no explainable reason, he'd been quite content to let her kick ass the way she felt like it. And an even bigger plus, he didn't seem to care if she fought better than him. Unlike Riley, or Spike, or Angel, he didn't care about the slayer.

Ok, he knew her as Eliza, but what was a name? Spending the better part of a decade in Middle Earth had changed her, and it turned out that Galadriel had been right. Having the freedom to not be a slayer and just be herself had taken a huge load off her shoulders. She didn't have to kill monsters left, right and centre if she didn't want to. And when she did, she got paid for it. All in all, a nice arrangement.

Physically, the only concession she'd made was to allow her hair to grow almost to waist length. There weren't too many hairdressers in Middle Earth, and even fewer that knew the first thing about cutting women's hair. Habitually she wore it in a thick braid, down her back when in the city and coiled up on her head when she was with her troops.

And since Denethor, she hadn't indulged in any flirtations. It was enough to drive a girl mad. Chivalry was a big thing here in Gondor. But at least Denethor, who got grumpier every year, had left her alone. The man was getting married to Lady Finduilas, daughter of Prince Adrahil of Dol Amroth. Buffy honestly didn't know what the woman saw in him, but hey, if she wanted to marry the crazy guy, who was she to stop her?

Anyway, there was to be a big party tomorrow after the wedding, so Buffy had to sort out her gear for tomorrow. She and Ecthelion had come to an arrangement a couple of years back, she put in the mandatory appearances at social functions without decking anybody else, such as his son, though how he found out about that she didn't have a clue, and he'd cover her ass in the event of any more Buffy mess ups.

As she got used to Middle Earth, it didn't happen that often but Buffy was still rather high-spirited as he put it, and had a very nasty temper. He'd said that he really didn't want to have to have her arrested. She'd agreed totally. She'd never looked good in chains.

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The wedding had gone off without a hitch, even if Buffy had had to hide her snickers during Denethor's very poetic, very familiar vows. And now the ensuing party could also be considered a success, judging by how everyone had lightened up and were enjoying themselves.

Of course, that could have something to do with the copious amounts of wine being drunk by the revellers. Even Buffy herself hadn't been immune to its effects, and was now pleasantly tipsy.

And so when an also pleasantly tipsy Aragorn asked her dance. Instead of warning bells going off in her head, she said yes. Even though she still wasn't any good at this fancy dancing. Fancy being a polite word for very slow. She just forgot about her reservations and relished being in the arms of the only man who'd caught her fancy in Middle Earth. Elves didn't count. They were all so cute it should be a crime.

For Aragorn's part, he'd got the idea of asking Eliza to dance from Denethor's usually cutting, and for once, enlightening, remarks. "You are quite taken with the 'Lady' Eliza," Denethor said curiously and with more than a little venom, "Have you a taste for wargs or is it just that particular one you are attracted to?" Denethor's opinion of Eliza had taken a drastic downhill slide when she refuted his advances so eloquently.

Aragorn hadn't been pleased by his tone or his insinuations but it had opened his eyes a little. He actually didn't know why he hadn't seen it before, but Eliza, for all of the mystery surrounding her, was very attractive and they got on very well together when they weren't trying to pry information out of the other.

And so here he was, dancing with her. And for the first time since he'd lain eyes on Arwen Evenstar, he felt a stirring in his blood.

Once the tune ended, he led them over to one of the small seating areas scattered around the room. "How is it that I have known you for so many years and yet every time I think I know you, you do something to prove me wrong?"

She smiled softly, "Let me guess, you just realised that I normally don't dance?" At his nod, she continued, "Well, I can't very well refuse my captain now, can I? He could assign me night patrol for the next three weeks."

"You _like_ night patrol," Aragorn said, "You're one of the few who do."

"So?" she said airily, "And good sir, considering that you have half the unattached maidens of Gondor after your hide, why are you dancing with me? Lady Golwyn is _most _interested in you."

"Lady Golwyn wants to eat me alive, and then take my purse when I die," Aragorn said, shuddering in the disgust at the thought of the very adventurous Lady, in the bedroom anyway if the rumours were anything to go by. "And those 'unattached maidens' seek a husband and I shall be bound to no man's child yet."

"Commitment issues?" Buffy quipped, wondering what had gotten into her. She was usually more careful to guard her tongue around the quick witted Dúnadan.

Aragorn stared at her for a moment before shaking himself out of his shock. Eliza could be very bawdy at times, he remembered, and knew a thousand times more than she actually said. No shrinking wallflower there, he noted. "Aye. Let us say that I have a hard road ahead of me and no woman deserves to be dragged down it with me."

"A woman might not take too kindly to a mere man telling her where she can and cannot tread," Buffy teased, "Have you never heard the saying 'hell hath no fury than a woman scorned'?"

"Hell?" Aragorn asked in confusion.

"Think of Morgoth's Fires and you've just about got it," she answered nonchalantly.

"Aye, then I think it must be your motto. And if not yours, surely that of your house."

"Nah!" Buffy dismissed his notion, her face taking on a faraway expression as she thought on the slayers that came before her. "If anything, the motto of my house is 'she will die young' or even better; 'one dies and another comes after'."

"A rather morose sentiment," Aragorn said in wonderment, "But as 'tis you who said it, I find myself less surprised than I should be."

"So, back to what we were discussing Master Evasive, have you no woman waiting on you? Or do you prefer men?" she added the last as an afterthought, enjoying Aragorn's eyes bug out.

"Eliza!" he sputtered, absolutely scandalised, only making her laugh more, "You have a wicked, wicked tongue and a truly evil mind."

"And you like me for it! Now answer my question Thorongil, or I shall be forced to conclude that the fairer sex is not to your liking. _And_ I'll tell that to Lord Denethor. 'Twould get rid of the swarming maidens anyway."

"And condemn me to ridicule and torment," Aragorn hissed before his voice took on a wistful tone, "There is one who holds my heart but she has noticed me not. Nor will she. She is too far above me for me to ever attain."

Buffy's heart clenched painfully. Arwen… "Maybe you'll find your happiness eventually." she said sincerely, ignoring her rising jealously, "Any woman would be blessed to have you. Even if you would drive her mad!"

"And 'twould be a brave man indeed that dared approach you!" Aragorn jested in return, somewhat uncomfortable with the turn their conversation had taken, "Have you not found anyone you find worthy of you yet? Or are you content to punch the city's lords and be done with it?" He would never know how badly he had touched a nerve.

Buffy didn't know what had come over her but she was suddenly feeling very hot, "As great as this conversation is, can we take it outside? It's really hot in here."

Aragorn didn't protest as they walked out, encased in a nice happy bubble that being tipsy brought.

It was a lovely night, slightly chill but the moon was full, giving out plenty of light for Buffy's sharp night vision to see by. She sighed with relief as the loud boisterous music the band were currently playing was dulled through the thick wooden doors. Sometimes, having enhanced hearing was a curse in gatherings such as this. Especially when the band was playing all of three feet away from you.

Being outside soothed her burgeoning headache, and Aragorn's presence was a comfort. Even if there was something niggling at the back of her brain, something she should remember… But she was perfectly content at the moment and so she ignored it.

She vaguely remembered that Buffy and any alcohol related substance did not go well together. But at the moment, she really couldn't care. It felt nice to have a good friend, even if she wanted him to be more. It had been so long since she'd left Sunnydale, and even then the bitterness at her so-called friends' betrayal still lingered. If there was one thing she knew about Aragorn, son of Arathorn, was that he didn't betray his friends, not unless they decided to serve Sauron anyway.

Leading the way to the nearby balcony, she relished in the feeling of fresh air. But the combination of fresh air and an alcohol induced buzz went straight to her head, and she staggered with a sudden fit of lightheadedness. Belatedly, she noted that apparently processing alcohol faster was not one of her slayerly gifts.

Expecting to nearly fall, and trying to gather herself, she was surprised at what happened next.

Strong arms caught her as she stumbled, holding her close to a tall form. Her head fogged all the more as she realised whose arms. _Aragorn _was holding her. Trying to escape his grasp while she still had enough wits about her, she tried to leave but Aragorn held her firm.

Turning her around so that she faced him, her breath caught at the sight of his dilated grey eyes, looking almost black in the moonlight. Their gazes locked and for a moment, an eternity, their breaths caught.

Taken aback by the strange feelings welling inside him, Aragorn ignored the voice of common sense telling him this wasn't a good idea, that it would all come to ruin in the morning when they were sober, but he gave in to the impulse to touch her.

Gently, he placed a hand on her cheek, rubbing his thumb along the soft skin, marvelling at the feeling of this strong woman trembling because of him.

For her part, Buffy was frozen. Here was what she wanted, offered to her on a silver platter, all she had to do was take it… But as much as her conscience screamed 'Arwen!', she was helpless to do anything. For the first time since she had been called as the Vampire Slayer, Buffy wanted to give in to him, secure in the knowledge that she could trust him and that they could be equals. Without her having to put up with an inferiority complex, whether it be a soul or lack of one, or over simply being normal. Aragorn was the first man, (the vampires/demons didn't count) that she respected, and who could respect her back. Not envy her for her life, or for being what she was.

Aragorn leaned down and brushed his lips over her, and Buffy couldn't do it anymore.

Both locked their voices of reason away, and kissed each other with a passion that surprised them both. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as he grabbed her by the waist.

Lungs screaming for air, Aragorn pulled back, giving Buffy some time to gather her suddenly addled wits. But as she realised what she'd done she wondered if she hadn't been deaf, dumb and stupid the entire time. She'd kissed Aragorn! Aragorn who was in love with Arwen, her friend! What sort of Cordelia wannabe was she?!

Luckily, Aragorn seemed to sense her newfound reticence and didn't press any more, even though she could feel that he wanted her. He insisted on escorting her back to her apartments though, both of them being less than lightfooted at the present time, and gave her a light kiss on the cheek at the door.

Alone in her rooms, Buffy decided that she'd deal with all this complicated stuff in the morning, and grabbing a glass of wine she drowned her sorrows in the rich red liquid before falling into a fitful sleep.

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'Twas a groggy, pained Aragorn that woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache that made him wish he had slept much longer.

His memories of last night were fuzzy, and he tried to remember the events after the feast. As it all came back to him, his eyes widened impossibly. He… and Eliza…. They had… Oh dear Eru, what had he done?! He was in love with Arwen! And Eliza was too good a friend to have as a mere bed partner. How in Arda was he going to handle this?!

And worse, even though the memories were hazy, he was fairly sure that he had enjoyed himself immensely. And for the life of him, he couldn't remember whether he had made an offer to her that would leave her disgusted with him. Eliza did not strike him as the type to jump into bed with anyone on a whim. Even her captain. Especially not her captain.

How was he going to handle this? He counted her as a friend, but if she took offence….

He could only ignore it and hope that she did the same or else he honestly did know what he would do.

Because as much as he told himself it should mean nothing, that it did mean nothing, a part of him that sounded suspiciously like the twins reminded him that he had enjoyed it, and that he would not mind doing it again…

By the Valar, was he losing his mind?

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Around the same time Aragorn was beating himself up, Buffy was panicking, absolutely horrified with herself. Exactly how was she going to face Aragorn after this?! She had to work with the man, and if he decided to make a big deal over this… this… _thing_, then it wasn't as if she could show him the sharp end of her sword!

Not to mention if it got back to Arwen! Or even worse Elrond! If she had to sit through one more 'don't act like a tavern wench from Bree' speech coupled with the 'if you let my son die than all sorts of wrath and ruin shall fall upon you' speech, she would scream literally.

And for all that Elrond had survived the Last Alliance, he wouldn't survive Buffy Summers!

The best outcome was that Aragorn never remembered. Alcohol tended to mess with your head, and if he did remember something, maybe she could convince him it was a dream. If that didn't work, more drastic measures would have to be taken. After all, wouldn't a nice sword hilt to the head take care of the pesky little problem?

Worst case scenario was that he would make her life hell. He was her captain and for all that she took pride in not learning the rules, she most definitely did not want to have to wheedle her way out of chamber pot duty. Talk about eeugh!

Of course, there was one teensy weensy little problem…

She'd still be left with dreams of that night and an intensified longing for what she could never have…

What was it with her luck and men? She seemed to be doomed to spend the rest of her life alone.

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When Thorongil and Eliza began avoiding each other, and acting unusually formal when they were together, Denethor's brain started spinning. What could have split the dream duo up? After five years in the army, Eliza was only second to 'he who can do no wrong' Thorongil when it came to the love of the people. For all her brazenness, people could not help but like her.

And so he watched, and he waited and he plotted.

And eventually he was rewarded for his efforts.

Thorongil was careless due to his distraction with Eliza and for once did not lock the chest he kept under his bed. Denethor had tried to open it several times but the mithril chest was bolted to the floor and he was unable to pry it open.

To think that one such as Thorongil had a fortune, in _mithril_ no less!, hidden under his bed. 'Twas enough to make his blood boil the first time he had found it.

But now he was finally able to peruse its contents and they were more than he could ever have dreamt.

Inside, carefully placed in a cloth pouch, was a ring of legend. The Ring of Barahir, owned by Beren of the First Age, and heirloom of the line of Elendil and Isildur. Heirloom of the line of Kings! And then he moved on to the stack of letters, written in Elvish script, which he was not familiar with, though he could make out the name he sought… Aragorn…

So this was the name of the man who would dare cast him aside…

Rifling through its contents, he found much gold, items marked with the emblem of the Elves, in particular the house of Elrond he thought, though he couldn't be sure. Obviously 'Thorongil' treasured these and 'twould be best if he refrained from taking any until this Aragorn was taken care of. After all, with these tokens, when the time came, they would be enough that all would hail Denethor, King of Gondor.

All that remained was for Aragorn to die…

While tragedy on the battlefield would be best, he was not patient nor reckless enough to let his chance rest on luck. No, some things were best handled personally.

The winged crown would be his, whatever his father's views on the matter. He would restore Gondor to its former glory and be known as the King who kept the shadow at bay.

'Twas a pity that he could not keep this Aragorn to play with once the throne was secure. What better revenge than to enslave this crownless king into the service of his rival? His rival, who had bested him so greatly that there was no chance of victory left to him…

Oh, it would be sweet. Very sweet indeed….

He already knew what he would say, had seen it written in the lore of Gondor, "Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta." he whispered and laughed to himself as he left…

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A/N: So? What do you think? It was Buffy and Aragorn's first kiss! Awww! Please READ and REVIEW!!!

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Next chapter: We see Boromir arrive into the world. Buffy and Aragorn get a surprise. We meet up with the twins and Denethor's plans come to fruition… At a price….

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P.S - does anybody know any other archives that accept BtVS/LotR crossovers?

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Elvish:

Naneth - mother.

Nín Undómiel - My Evenstar

Hervenn - husband

Edhil - Elves.

Pyn neth - young ones

Gwanur-neth- younger brother

Ion nîn - my son  
Gwenyn - twins

Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta. - Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world.

Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

Círdan - also called 'the Shipwright'. Lord of the Grey Havens. The only Elf with a beard.

Doriath - An Elven realm in the First Age. Was destroyed first by Dwarves, then by kinslayings.

Lúthien - Daughter of King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia. Born in the First Age. Married a mortal man and came back from the dead as a mortal after convincing Mandos with a song to release her and her love, Beren. Considered the most beautiful Elf-maid to walk Arda. Elrond's foremother.


	7. The Baby Dance

FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's Note: Ok, as so many of you have asked, I have an answer. The question I get most often is: 'is Buffy immortal/mortal or will she live as long as Aragorn?'. Now for the answer: Buffy is mortal. I quote 'no vampire slayer ever died of old age'. Ever wonder why? Well, besides the early death thing anyway. The way I see it, they can be killed, they can fall sick, but the ageing thing I'll leave somewhat undefined. Buffy will get a 'reward' courtesy of Galadriel. You can wait 'til the tail end of this fic for that but as I have said earlier, the whole Buffy ageing thing will be cleared up in a couple of chapters. If I had to label her, I'd label her as akin to the Númenóreons, long lived people who only show their age when they are near the end of their lives. I do hope that clears things up a bit.

And wow! These chapters are all running away on me! They're all getting longer! This one's over nine thousand words! Yay me!

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Review responses:

Andrea35 - blushes you really flatter me! I'm happy you got your computer back! Eru knows I'd go mad without mine! Joss Whedon? And moutons? You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl! Honey, if you hate that cliffhanger… oooh, you're gonna kill me for this one… after all, what's some innuendo compared to malicious action? And Buffy will have her own little adventures but never fear, Aragorn will return at some point.

Anna - Yep, I'm on a roll at the moment. As my beta said, my muse is working overtime! I'm getting them out faster lately so let's hope it lasts! Buffy will be a long time wiggled into Aragorn's heart before Mr. Clueless realises it. Denethor will taste the wrath of the slayer eventually and with _very_ good reason…

Catlimere - Elrond, bald? That would be a sight to see! Yeah, Buffy's gonna really suffer thanks to the Aragorn/Arwen. They're lucky she likes them or they'd be slayer-chow. Denethor is out of control at the moment! Slandering, conspiracy to murder, excessive jealousy, a personality disorder, overzealous rivalry and a tendency to annoy people are pretty much his attributes. Leave matchmaking to the twins if it comes to that! Oooh, the Ar/L! You're only the second person to mention that! Yeah, I think Elrond would collapse from relief. At least until Glorfindel ever so helpfully points out that between them both, Arwen and Legolas would create one super-hellion if they ever had a child! Buffy will notice her good 'preservation' shortly but will hold her tongue until she gets to one who can give her answers. And yes, big surprise for her. As for the Dúnedain, Halbarad could be a possibility but it's so hard writing such minor characters that Tolkien didn't see fit to elaborate on! LOL!

Charmedfanatic3000 - Arwen has met Aragorn when he was twenty. A lovesick twenty. Her opinion of him is not gonna be swayed towards love until they meet up in Lórien, which is coming up shortly.

Delphine Pryde - when is Denethor ever up to anything good?

Gaul1 - no betrayal, she isn't in love with him yet. Elrond will be kept informed by an outside source(s).

Haley - I totally agree with you. I used to really like Buffy/Legolas pairings but then the site was flooded with them…

Herald-Mage Brianna - I think that Erestor, Glorfindel, and Elrond would take a very long and timely vacation in Lothlórien. After giving Haldir orders to shoot his offspring and their friends on sight!

Jennzabell - Théoden - married. Unfortunately. That would be a cool rivalry though. And then again, he was widowed…. Interesting idea! Kudos to you! It's most definitely original! And yes, Buffy will move on after she believes that she has no chance with Aragorn. I loved your description of Elrond! 'Lord of Manners' indeed! And driving Aragorn mad with suspicion?! You're evil! I like that though!

Jess aka BRTW - It might have been their first kiss but they've got a long way to go yet!

Malfeus - I do take some stuff from the book, which is mostly said in my author's notes at the bottom if it's something not everybody might be familiar with but I do take some liberties with the book-verse. I tend to lean towards a combination of book-verse and movie-verse to suit my story, all with my own little twists.

Meria - The next chapter of 'a light to you' is under way….

N/A - the chivalry thing kinda prevents Aragorn from thinking naughty. At least that's what he tells himself…

Pam - Thanks so much! You're so very complimentary! I'll have to make sure my head still fits through the door! Thanks for your comments on the pairings, they were encouraging and you're the first person to comment on the Ar/L sideline! Well done! And as for Aragorn and Buffy being amazing in the end, just wait until they're _both_ at Helms Deep! Buffy's not the type to stand on ceremony when she doesn't have to! As for the Lórien comment, I stand by it. I think if the Lady hadn't been expecting the Fellowship, dear ol' Haldir would have disposed with one dwarf-shaped pincushion!

rogue-angel82 - Buffy will not be another Éowyn. Éowyn goes off and sneaks around in war and then marries Faramir. Buffy's a more upfront girl. If she thought Aragorn was free, then she'd let him know in no uncertain terms what she wanted. Plus, all the cute guys from the movie are either babies or haven't been born yet and if another mortal went after one of Elrond's children, I think he'd really try and kill her. Legolas will be introduced in a couple of chapters, and from then on will play an important role in the story.

Saint Maverick - I think this is pretty fast for an update! At least for me anyway.

ShawThang - if you think Denethor's evil, watch what he does in this chapter! Yes, Buffy does think about her friends in Sunnydale and feels bitter about their betrayal. But to her mind, she'll never see them again and it only hurts her to dwell on them. Not to mention, it's been about eight years since her arrival in ME so time does heal somewhat. The effects of their betrayal on her will become more apparent as the War of the Ring progresses. Poor Boromir, the guy won't know what hit him…

Sorrow1 - What's the fun in writing fanfiction if you can't meddle with the story?

Star - sighs I just can't escape the question of Buffy's ageing, can I? The time has come I suppose, to drop a few more crumbs so to avoid answering every review the same, please look at the author's notes for your answer.

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And major thanks to:

Aleviel, Batgirl Beyond, DragonStar, fastpilot, Little Red Rabbit, Mari, Night-Owl123, Romisep (thanks for the heads up!), _tater2, Tkiwi,_

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE BABY DANCE

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If you reveal your secrets to the wind you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.

- Kahlil Gibran

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Rivendell. 2978, TA.

"As Dol Amroth is so close to Minas Tirith, we thought we would pay a visit to our dear brother…" Elladan casually explained to his bemused father.

"And darling Buffy as well…"

"We really must make sure the two are alright…"

"And that dear Estel has not gotten himself killed yet." Elrohir finished, mimicking his brother's all too innocent expression.

Elrond sighed, "I have known you too long ionnath-nin, to believe a single word of that. You seek to make mischief as well as visiting kith and kin. I know not what you have planned, but judging by your past exploits, it is not something Gondor will appreciate."

"Ada!" Elrohir exclaimed, mock scandalised, "You know we would never perform such a breach of decorum and dignity. How can you think we would besmirch the name of our house?"

"Because muindyr-nin," Arwen chimed in, "We know you too well and you have been wreaking havoc since before you could walk. Ada is right to be apprehensive."

"But I will not hinder your going," Elrond said, "I would just ask that you do not compromise _Thorongil's _or _Eliza's _positions in Minas Tirith." he said, emphasising the duo's aliases.

"We will be as fleet as a Wood-Elf hunting a Dwarf," Elladan said with a snicker, "Though we shall try not to land Estel in the dungeons!"

Elrond's eyes rolled upwards to the heavens, silently asking for strength to put up with his two hyperactive sons, who still behaved like elflings even thought they were approaching their three thousandth year.

"Well then brothers, I have a request to make of you," Arwen said in a tone that brooked no refusal, not that the twins refused her overmuch as they normally doted on their little sister. At least when they were not fighting like a horde of wargs anyway.

"What is it thel neth?" they chorused, glaring at each other slightly when they realised they had spoken as one again. This time, unintentionally.

"I bid you to carry a letter and a package to Buffy. Do not think that I do not know that you will take joy in harassing her during your stay. She should get some reward for putting up with the two of you."

The gwenyn smiled at that, not denying her words, "Aye, we will do it. What shall you send?"

"A letter from me, and the standard that I have made for her. Daernaneth said that it would please her to finally be recognised as one of Middle Earth, to be recognised as would one who had been born here. And to show her that she does have a place in this world."

"An excellent idea, daughter," Elrond praised, "Though do add that if she could try to not arouse any more of Aragorn's suspicions, 'twould be easier for me to dissuade him from trying to discover her secret."

"Adar," Elladan said with mock seriousness, "The day that Buffy starts acting 'proper' is the day that Glorfindel finds a Balrog he can't slay. To speak plainly, never."

-------------------

__

Minas Tirith, 2978, TA.

"I feel like I should have a great idea right now. But I don't!" Buffy muttered to herself, wondering how in Arda she'd gotten roped into this mess.

Lady Finduilas, heavily pregnant with her first child had gone into labour, the very thought of how she'd gotten that way sent shivers of disgust down Buffy's spine, and waves of pity for the poor, poor woman.

Unfortunately, Buffy had been roped in by that pig with the lama up his ass, Denethor, to play midwife to Finduilas.

Buffy did _not_ do babies!

What did she know about delivering babies?! A fat load of nothing! And as there was no epidurals or nice painkillers here, Finduilas was in a considerable amount of pain.

The very sight of it was nearly enough to make sure that Buffy let no man touch her again. Ever!

She felt like she was on a sinking ship, and the captain of said boat had already dived overboard. Taking the only life raft with him.

She was up to her elbows in blood, not a new thing for her but a most definitely new way of acquiring said stains. She had one crying, panting and screaming woman looking at her like she believed that Buffy knew what she was doing. And one baby about to come any minute now.

She was going to kill Denethor. Slowly. Very, very slowly.

And so after a few hours of near panic by both unwitting midwife and the mother, one little boy was born. Red faced, squalling, and covered in gunk.

Buffy was forced to clean him and hand him to the exhausted mother. That was the nice part. The not so nice part was having to listen to Denethor's proud boasts about his virility. Buffy wasn't entirely sure whether she wanted to get sick or deck the man again. After what Finduilas had just gone through, Buffy was positive his wife wouldn't mind some payback.

And that was how Boromir, son of Denethor, came into the world.

-------------------

Alone in the steward's private sitting room, Aragorn watched Ecthelion pace the room before finally sinking into a seat wearily. "Are you alright, my lord?" Aragorn asked in concern.

Ecthelion sighed, then looked at him intently, "I will be frank with you Thorongil," he said quietly, "I have not many years left to me in this world but in the time I do have I would see things put to right."

"You have done much good for Gondor in your time," Aragorn tried to reassure him, "What comes after cannot be your responsibility, but that of your son's."

"Aye, Denethor will come after me, but I fear that pride of his will not benefit Gondor. In truth, capable man though he is, I would have preferred to see you rule than him."

Aragorn barely veiled his shock at Ecthelion's words, never before had he openly said he didn't think Denethor could be a good steward.

The grey-haired man continued, "I know what you would say to such a thing and as much as modesty becomes you, the deeds you have accomplished do not lie. I would have you assure Gondor's safety, my captain and what's more I would see you with an heir."

"I know not what to say. Why do you speak so?" Aragorn said cautiously, unsure as to where this conversation was going.

"Gondor is losing more ground with every passing year. The Dark Lord builds his strength, and eventually his armies will sweep down on what little of Gondor we will still hold. And I know already that we cannot match the numbers he will gather. My son, for all that he thinks he can, will not be able to stop them. The White City will fall ere the end if it is left in his hands. What I ask of you is a great burden, but I think, not one that you have not taken up already."

"What would you have me do?"

"The people will need leaders they can trust, not a man who will lock himself away in his lore books and trinkets, they will need someone to believe in." the aged steward said, his tone strangely gentle, "Ever have you been the man that I wished my son could be and if I could have you as my heir I would. And I have decided that unless Denethor proves himself worthy, I shall."

Aragorn reeled back in shock, "You would what?!"

"I do this for the good of Gondor," Ecthelion said with a hard edge, the lines on his face looking like they were carved in stone, "Gondor _must_ survive. Already we are struggling, and if this realm falls, then Sauron extends his borders and his might beyond what any other free realm can counter. I refuse to let this happen!"

"You cannot just put me in Denethor's place!" Aragorn cried, "No one will accept it! And what is more, I do not want it!"

"Then for putting you in this position, I am sorry, but I will not name Denethor as my heir until I can be sure his own ambitions do not include the too long empty throne! Little Boromir shall be my heir if I decree, and I shall have you as regent if too many dissenters object to you being my heir. Not that they will, you have won the hearts of the people and that is worth more than simply bloodlines when it comes to ruling!"

"I cannot do this! I do not want this!" Aragorn exclaimed, rising to his feet.

He turned as if to leave but Ecthelion's cold voice stopped him. "You swore fealty to me Thorongil, and never have I asked you about your past. This is not a request but an order."

"Ecthelion," Aragorn said firmly, "Ever have I respected you but I will not do this. I cannot do this."

"You would go against my orders, and my heart's wish?"

"I would not have you make a mistake. My time in Gondor is ending," Aragorn said, "I shall not be here five years hence. I realise that you are desperate to see Gondor's rise but 'twill not be me that does it."

Ecthelion looked defeated as Aragorn finished speaking. Weariness and sorrow showed in the slumped shoulders, the downcast head. "Have more trust in your son Ecthelion. He might prove himself worthy yet. But you will never know unless you let him try."

"You say you are to go. It seems I am to lose my best captains."

"Only one, and one who can be replaced."

Ecthelion actually chuckled softly at that, a sort of black humour coming over him, "I would not have labelled you for one so dense Thorongil. You shall leave, and your lieutenant shall follow."

"Eliza?" Aragorn asked in surprise, "I do not see why. She would be the logical choice for my replacement."

"For all you keen sight, you are truly blind in some instances Thorongil. Whatever her reasons, Eliza guards you. Since she arrived she has watched you. I would not be surprised to find the only reason for her being here was because you were. In fact, I would also not be surprised if she felt more than friendship for you."

Aragorn really did not know what to make of that. On one hand, it confirmed that Eliza was most definitely up to something, and not using her real name either. On the other, he had thought that they had both stayed firmly within the bounds of friendship since their ill-fated, never mentioned, kiss two years ago.

And Ecthelion's revealed plans were surprising to say the least. He had lingered here too long. He'd promised to stay until the threat to Gondor from the Corsairs was nullified and to that he would hold. Unfortunately, this evening's incident had highlighted the need for speed in his endeavours.

Everything was falling apart too quickly now. When had it come to this?

-------------------

"Thorongil is planning on leaving soon," Ecthelion began without preamble as soon as Buffy shut the door behind her, "He has rejected my offer to be my heir and I despair of him ever claiming the throne if he won't even accept stewardship or regent for Boromir!"

"I think he blames himself for Isildur." Buffy said, "Not to mention it must be hard to step up and go 'hey, I'm the king. Let's disregard the last thousand years and bow down to me, shall we?' Also, there's a war coming and it's a lot easier to get stuff done if you're not buried in paperwork."

"But Gondor needs him now!" Ecthelion said desperately, "Denethor, once he is steward, he will never willingly hand over rule of the city to Thorongil! I can try to keep Denethor from the sceptre if Thorongil had but agreed to be regent but without it, Denethor will succeed me!"

"Then he'll just have to deal with that problem when it comes. You were wrong to push him. If the Dark Lord found out that he was alive, not nice and dead like he thought, he'd do almost anything to kill him and then wouldn't we all be in trouble?!"

"I suppose you are right," he said, calming down and taking a sip of his tea, "But it does not mean that this pleases me. I am to lose you as well once Thorongil goes, am I not?"

"Yeah, it tends to go with being his beleaguered bodyguard," Buffy said offhandedly, "I owe you for the heads up by the way. Dear old Thorongil obviously wasn't planning on telling me about his imminent departure! And it's not like he's fit to be left alone! Please! Without me he'd probably end up taking a guided tour of Mordor, probably with Nazgûl airlines too!"

Ecthelion did not even pretend to understand half of what she said. He had learned long ago that Eliza often spoke in a dialect he'd never heard in all his years in Middle Earth. "Then how, pray tell, do you plan to follow him without telling him of your task?"

"Don't have a clue!" Buffy said airily, "It's a bridge I'll cross when I come to it. I've always been better improvising than with all that nasty planning."

"You will not tell him of your feelings?" Ecthelion asked mildly, watching her reaction carefully.

"He already knows I consider him a combined friend and pest," she replied. "What more is there?"

"Perhaps love?" he suggested slyly, studiously looking at his teacup, "You would be good for him. At least you would keep him alive and well until he claims his throne."

"He's in love with someone else, and if you mention anything to him I will have your guts for garters, Lord Steward or not!"

"He will need a queen that can help him get and keep his throne!" Ecthelion exclaimed, "Gondor's nobles will not take well to a claimant for the winged crown after all this time, they will try to gain power out of it! He will need someone to keep the wolves at bay. And they already know and respect you!"

"No, the soldiers respect me. The nobles as you call them fear me. And think that I have altogether too much influence with you."

"You can't hide it from him forever."

"I've managed to be secret identity girl for a good while now, haven't I? Don't take this the wrong way, but please mind your own business. I get enough grief as it is without you trying to play matchmaker. I can take care of myself. And as much as I don't want to admit it, so can Thorongil. Keep your nose out of it, or next thing you know there'll be two swords heading your way. I'm quite good when it comes to throwing swords. Scared lots of little Watchers that way."

****

Ecthelion could only shake his head in absolute bewilderment, and no small amount of wonder at the stubbornness that both Thorongil and Eliza displayed. Wherever they went next, he almost pitied any poor unsuspecting fool that gainsaid them.

-------------------

Denethor eyed the package in his hand with no small semblance of glee. He had waited long for this and finally, his chance had now come. The little vial of powder in his hands was to be the key to his triumph and ensuing rise to power.

His father may be blind to Gondor's great need, but he was not. He would not have Sauron have his kingdom. His father might not think he knew, and had obviously decided not to trust him with it, but he knew what his father hid in his tower, fearing to use it.

The palantír would be of much use to him when he got his hands on it. He would be known as the Steward that held back the Dark Lord.

All that was needed was for the line of kings to be ended…

He had been merciful, he knew, a swift death that was relatively painless was much more humane than the torture the man would have endured at the hands of the Dark Lord who hunted him. If had wanted to pay Thorongil, no, _Aragorn_, back for all these years of humiliation it would have been very little work to leak to the servants of Sauron that one heir of Isildur yet lived.

In the end, Aragorn should be thankful. If he was lucky, he might never know what had struck him down at all…

-------------------

In his chambers, Aragorn sat sprawled in a comfortably stuffed armchair, sipping some hot mulled wine as he debated with himself. What Ecthelion had said had startled him, but 'twas not the thought of being his heir or regent that had sent him into this fit of brooding. Rather, 'twas his words about Eliza, who, if he admitted it to himself, was the first woman he had felt anything but pure lust for since Arwen Undómiel.

Ecthelion's words echoed in his mind, '_You shall leave, and your lieutenant shall follow… Whatever her reasons, Eliza guards you. Since she arrived she has watched you. I would not be surprised to find the only reason for her being here was because you were. In fact, I would also not be surprised if she felt more than friendship for you._'

He had not believed him at first when he said she still had feelings for him. She had but once shown him any sign that she was interested in him as anything other than a friend, and that had been under the influence of wine at the time.

He really was not sure what to make of this revelation now. He loved the Lady Evenstar, from the very first time he saw her and her image had helped comfort him during some of his darkest moments.

But Elrond's words to him so many years ago still haunted him, '_She is of lineage greater than yours, and she has lived in the world already so long that to her you are but as a yearling shoot beside a young birch of many summers. She is too far above you. And so, I think, it may well seem to her._'

Elrond was right. He usually was. He had set his eyes on a treasure that he could never attain. And even if it was, to pursue it was to seek to sunder forever the family that had raised him. There was no respite from the doom of Men, and for Arwen, Elrond's daughter, to choose such a thing would mean forever forsaking the Undying Lands and her people, and to never see her mother, the Lady Celebrían again. For when mortals died, their spirits passed beyond this world to a place that Elf-kind could not follow.

To love Arwen Undómiel was to know heartache. But to be loved by Arwen Undómiel was to condemn her to death, and worse, a death that should never have been hers.

She lived with all the youth and grace of the Eldar. Who was he to take that from her even if he dared?

He may love her but she would never return his affections. He had waited long and passed through many trials, maybe it was time for him to put a fool's hope aside and look more to reality.

If Eliza did care for him as more than a friend, then it would be no hardship to him to see where it led. After all, she was arguably one of the most fascinating people he had ever met. 'Twas not often someone managed to keep their past secret from him for so long, with Elrond being the notable exception, and however grudgingly, he had to have a lot of respect for her over that.

And as much as it was thought improper, he was not immune to her other charms. What she lacked in stature, she more than made up for in personality. He thought that even Lord Elrond himself might have trouble trying to control Eliza. And considering the fact that he had reared two of the most atrociously annoying but loveable hellions to ever exist in Arda, that was something.

She was prideful, often self-depreciating, intelligent, bright, bubbly and deadly with or without weapons. She was, in all, a lovely, unique woman.

He was attracted to her and it was high time to see where it could go.

His dream of Arwen was over without having come to pass, but he might very well have a new dream if things worked out alright.

-------------------

"Suilaid mellon nîn," Aragorn greeted her as she pored over some supply invoices from the armourers. They were alone in the meeting room, and she looked up when he spoke, curiously noting the use of Elvish. He had long since pretended to give up asking how she learned it, but he seldom used it with her except when he didn't want to be overheard or when there was a serious conversation in the works.

"Suilaid Thorongil," she replied before returning to her invoices.

"I would speak to you hiril nîn, about a serious matter," he said, taking a seat across from her.

"By all means, hir nîn," she said, "And you can be the one to tell Ecthelion why our men haven't gotten their new armour yet because you were distracting me!"

"Forgive me if I seem rude Eliza, but why have you not sought a hervenn yet?"

Her eyes narrowed and her scowl would have been enough to give a Balrog second thoughts, "A bit rude? Why not go the full hog while you're at it, Master Nosy?! I do not have a husband because I. Do. Not. Want. Or. Need. One." she said slowly, enunciating each word like she was talking to a particularly slow child.

"I am sorry for offending you, my lady," Aragorn said formerly, "But I wanted to know if you would be adverse to someone courting you."

Her eyes widened almost comically and she gaped at him for a few moments, giving him some amusement, "Courting?… me?" she choked out, "Who?" she looked at him and if he thought she looked shocked before, it was nothing compared to how she looked now. "You?!" she almost screeched and Aragorn was forced to reconsider if this had been a good idea.

Nodding in answer to her question, he watched her as she digested that information, "You… oh G.. - Eru! You… and me?! What are you thinking? Were you thinking? You don't like me that way! I mean, you totally blew me off the last time and now you're here?! You're not drunk again, are you?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nay Eliza, I am not drunk but I do believe you have feelings for me and I think I might have some for you. I would see how well we would go together and came to see if you would be amenable to me courting you. I know none of your kin, if you have any, and so must take the matter directly to you."

Buffy felt her heart sink, Aragorn didn't read minds, which meant that crazy old coot Ecthelion must have been gossiping. Which also meant that he either sent Aragorn to do this or guilt-tripped him into doing this. He might like her but he didn't love her. Arwen still had a firm grip on his heart.

And friend or no, she wasn't going to play second fiddle to anyone! She'd had enough of men, and vampires, walking and then stomping all over her heart. All her built up rage at her situation came to the fore and poor Aragorn was going to pay for it.

"My Lord Thorongil," she said equally formal and in quite a chilly tone, "I am not some plaything to be picked up and discarded at whim!" Whoa, she sounded like Elrond in lecture mode, but hey, channelling the 'Lord of Manners' was fun!

"Perhaps I would have considered it if you had been sincere but you really couldn't give a damn about me beyond friendship and quite frankly, I find that pretending otherwise is insulting! Ecthelion had a word with you too I see and obviously he did a better job of nudging you into action. You've done your duty, and probably had a good laugh while doing it too, so you can go back to him and say you did what you were supposed to by messing with little lovesick B.. - Eliza! I had thought you were better than that, Thorongil, than to play with someone's head this way! I'm ashamed at you, to come in here, in love with someone else and then say you wanna go out with me! Well forget it! I've had enough of men and their stupid games!"

Grabbing a nearby pitcher of water, she upended it all over a nonplussed and soon sputtering ranger. "Take that!" she said, feeling utterly vindictive and very mad, "Maybe that will teach you something!"

She then stormed out, the door slamming into the wall as she threw it open, fuming so much that Aragorn half expected to see steam pouring off her, and through the now widely flung door, he saw her nearly bowl over a startled servant before she stomped off down the hall.

Dripping water, he stood and wondered where in Arda that outburst had come from and what had he done to anger the Valar that they felt he deserved to be the recipient of it.

-------------------

'Twas under the cover of nightfall that Elladan and Elrohir snuck into the city. They had great plans for their stay here, however short it might be and were in high spirits when they decided to visit their foster brother first.

Climbing through the window, after all what was a few stories to Elves of the twins' calibre?, they crept up on their soundly sleeping brother.

With a likeness of mind that only twins could share, they glanced at each other and identical wicked smirks curved two identical mouths. "After you tôren," Elladan said courteously, "I will be in the second wave."

Elrohir looked like a cat who'd just caught sight of a juicy mouse as he prowled forward and then with an utterly gleeful luck catapulted himself onto the bed. The sudden jolt and the feel of something falling on top of them roused Aragorn to wakefulness and he tried to sit up, being prevented by some moving bulk, leaving him to flail around for some sort of weapon.

A second later, the weight was gone and there was a cold pitcher of water poured over him for the second time that day. "Ai!" he exclaimed in shock as he and his bed were drenched. He had barely spluttered out the word before he was confronted by two madly laughing Elves, in near hysterics due to his predicament, "Ai!" Elladan gasped out between laughs, "Nîn tithen tôr, you really are too old for such accidents. What shall the maids say when they come to find sopping wet sheets!"

This thought apparently entertained him a lot as he burst into fits of mirth again. Beside him, Elrohir wasn't much better.

"Elladan, Elrohir," Aragorn said icily as he squeezed the water out of his hair, "What did I do to displease adar that he set the dreaded gwenyn on me?"

"We were but travelling to Dol Amroth and we thought to visit you while we were here." Elrohir said innocently. Too innocently.

"By tormenting me, muindor?" Aragorn snapped, "'Tis the second time this day that I have been drenched and my temper was not faring well after the first time. Tell me, why should I not go for my sword now and be rid of you? I'm sure ada would understand, he always said that one day you would drive someone too far and in their madness they would kill you!"

"You wound me Estel!" Elladan said with a look of mock hurt, staggering back while clutching his chest, "Did you hear him Elrohir? He wishes us dead! Ai, the pen neth has become shockingly cruel!"

"Well, _I_ was the one who got wakened so rudely El!" Aragorn said angrily, rising out of the bed to look for some dry sleep clothes, "You should be apologising to me!"

"Saes muindor! We apologise only when ada makes us at sword point! You are most assuredly not ada so we do not have to listen to you!" Elladan teased in an annoying sing-song voice.

"You always were crabby when woken from a nap," Elladan said casually, strolling throughout the room and poking at anything that caught his fancy.

"Have you any real business or are you just here to harass me into committing murder?" Aragorn asked as he pulled on a new tunic.

"Nay, 'tis but a social call tithen Estel. We feared you would be lonely in this city of men."

"After all who wouldn't miss two such charming Edhil as us?" Elladan said cheekily. "Now I believe you said you were drenched twice. Do tell us who did this deed so we can go kill them for copying our long tried and true pranks!"

"Since you did the deed last, 'tis you who is copying, muindor," Aragorn reminded them, "And 'twas Eliza, the lieutenant I wrote to ada about and who you seem to know. She was in a worse temper than a dragon with his treasure hoard stolen today, for what reason I know not, save that I bore the greater part of her wrath."

"It sounds much like her indeed. But what did you do?" Elrohir asked, sensing a hidden story behind this tale.

Aragorn refused to look at them, "Nothing that is any business of yours, muindyr-nin."

"That good a tale then muindor? Obviously 'tis most interesting." Elrohir surmised. "Keep your secrets if you will but for now you will sit and regal us with the tale of your life here in Gondor. And if you can recite the part in which Eliza punches this Denethor, in great detail I might add, then we might not stay to frighten the servants."

-------------------

The next morn, the twins while having left Aragorn's chambers, still prowled the shadows of Minas Tirith. They had yet to deliver Arwen's missives to Buffy and they wished to see how their brother and the Vampire Slayer got on. After all, if Aragorn and Buffy joined with them, Arwen and Legolas, they'd outnumber the trio of their adar, Glorfindel and Erestor two to one.

If the trio had been shaking before, they would run screaming for the hills at those odds.

And as for Buffy, that girl had some very devious ideas in that little head of hers. All of which the twins wanted to extract. Not to mention, she could hold off Glorfindel if he decided to try to kill them again.

(Last time it had been Arwen who had put herself in Glorfindel's path to save her brothers. Considering she was an absolutely adorable and precocious half-grown elfling at the time, Glorfindel had duly given in to her demands to make daisy chains. According to Arwen, the Balrog Slayer did not like watching people cry. He said it made him feel uncomfortable. Especially when the Lady Celebrían was breathing down his neck, waiting to blame him and then flay him for causing Arwen's displeasure!)

And so, being careful to keep out of sight and sensing range of their Dúnadan brother and the Vampire Slayer, they each silently and carefully trailed one of their targets for the day.

And so 'twas early afternoon when Buffy and Aragorn's, and hence the twins, paths crossed.

"Eliza!" Aragorn called to her as she passed him in a hallway. Overlooking the fact that she was ignoring him profusely, he swiftly caught up with her and placed himself directly in her path. She tried to go around him but he deftly blocked her every attempt.

"Get out of my way Thorongil, or else I'm gonna land you flat on your back! And none too gently either!" she snarled, still not over her ire at him, and even if she had been, still willing to keep up the pretence of anger so that he wouldn't decide that this new 'duty' was accomplishable. She was not going to stand for being a pity-date of convenience!

"I would talk to you Eliza," he answered calmly.

"Well I don't wanna talk to you!" Buffy said sugarily, "Now clear out of the way or get some broken bones!"

Deciding to ignore the threats, Aragorn grabbed her by the arm and hauled her into the nearest empty room, away from the curious ears of onlookers. Swiftly closing the door behind him, he didn't notice the cloaked twins trying to find a way of seeing what was going on without attracting too much attention.

"Any suggestions tôren?" Elladan asked, his curiosity ignited by the strange scene they had just witnessed.

"We are on the ground floor so I say the window would be ideal for spying on the pyn neth. Now quick before we miss anything!"

Their keen hearing and sight afforded them a good view of the room from a position which no ordinary mortal would ever be able to achieve. Trying to stay upright whilst not making an obvious lump in the curtains would have been galling to them if they were not used to spying. Trust Aragorn to pick one of the most cantankerous rooms in the citadel!

.

.

"May the flames of Udûn take you Aragorn!" Buffy exclaimed as the door slammed, "Are we resorting to manhandling now? 'Cos if you're that eager for a beating, all you had to do was ask!"

"Peace, mellon nîn," Aragorn said, "I meant you no harm! But we must talk this through if we are to work together!"

"You're a jerk. I'm mad. I think that about covers it," Buffy snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She looked at Aragorn in perplexity before her eyes narrowed into slits, "What in Arda are you smirking for now?!"

"Perhaps because I find your temper amusing!"

That shut her up, for a moment at least, "You what?!" Buffy cried, "Excuse me buddy, but this temper makes orcs run away from me. Have you got a death wish? Because I am so close to fulfilling it at the moment."

"I sincerely did not mean to offend you in any way Eliza," he said placidly, determined to say his part before she actually tried to kill him. "I realise that I have angered you by asking to court you and I come here asking for us to return to the way we were before my imprudent question."

"So you just wanna forget all about it?" Buffy said, "Works for me. I wasn't looking forward to explaining your brutal death to Ecthelion."

Aragorn smiled, a relieved smile, and Buffy felt a stabbing pain in her heart. So she was that undesirable, huh? The man had managed to make her feel lousy without even trying. Still, she had to admit that if Arwen went with it, she was going to be one lucky woman.

A flash of insight came to her and she spoke the words unbidden, "Watch your back Elessar. A viper in your midst rears to strike."

Aragorn jerked back in shock, "What did you say?"

Buffy shook her head to clear it, "I don't rightly know. What's an Elessar anyway?" she said, playing clueless and still shaken, Aragorn left, wondering why she had called him that.

.

.

As Buffy left the room, the twins tumbled into it.

Eyeing their very inelegant landing and swiftly discerning the cause, Elladan spoke menacingly, "What did you do?"

"Why do you automatically assume it was something I did?" Elrohir protested, getting off his brother and managing to elbow him in the stomach while he was at it.

"Elrohir!" Elladan snapped.

"Alright, alright, I did it." Elrohir admitted, "How was I to know the curtain would come away from the wall like that?"

"Perhaps by using your brain, if you have one," his twin answered. "Now please tell me you witnessed that rather enlightening conversation as well as I?"

"Yes, 'tis most interesting muindor. Aragorn and Buffy? 'Twas not something I had expected."

"Ada will be overjoyed. He will try and shove poor Buffy into wedding clothes as soon as he gets his hands on her." Elladan said, eyes crinkling in amusement as he thought of his formidable sire chasing or being chased by and enraged Vampire Slayer.

"Aye, but they were agreeing not to court, dear brother. So I say ada would be overhasty to do that."

"She has a fancy or more for him. He has a fancy for her. This would keep him away from Arwen! If you think for one second that ada will not support this move fully, then I cannot condone calling you a son of Elrond."

"If it keeps our thel mell numbered amongst the Eldar, then it has my full support. But I do think that a visit to dear Buffy is called for. Shall we see if our suspicions are right? After all who can stand for long against the combined interrogation of the gwenyn o Imladris?

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Buffy's spine stiffened and she stopped removing her outer tunic and instead hefted her daggers. With lightning speed she had buried them into the wall, pinning the sleeves of the invader to the stone.

A roundhouse kick for the other missed but a swift punch to the gut had intruder number two sprawled face first on the bed.

Getting a decent look at the one pinned to the wall and eyeing her daggers askance and more than a little reprovingly. "Oh by the Valar!" she exclaimed, "Elladan?" Turning to look at the now recovered bed flopper she said, "Elrohir?"

"At your service," Elladan said sarcastically, "Is this the way Ladies treat their guests in Gondor? I thought ada had drilled the need not to attack visitors into you."

Removing the daggers, she waggled them under his face, "Elrond is not here so who cares? Now what are you both doing skulking around my bedchamber at this hour? I don't do threesomes if that's what you came to ask."

"We came to visit you while we were in the area and to bring you some missives from Arwen." Elrohir explained, ignoring the bawdy humour.

"Oh! Gimme, gimme!"

"Now is that any way to behave Buffy? What was it that ada would have said? Oh yes!" Elladan said.

"Act like a Lady, for Eru's sake, not a drunken ranger!" the twins chorused teasingly. Buffy hit them in the face with her cushions.

"Hand 'em over now or I'm gonna start slicing!" Buffy said, waving one of her daggers around threateningly.

The twins huffed and puffed but did as they were told. Buffy might not literally slice them to pieces but doing it to their clothes and thereby leaving them with only a cloak to maintain their dignity was not beyond her.

Buffy put aside the letter and package to read later when the twins were gone and safety had returned to her chambers. "Why are you still here?" she asked, when she noticed the twins seemed to be settling in for the long haul. "If anyone catches you in here, I'm gonna have a lot of explaining to do. Too much explaining."

"Oh, we just wanted to talk to you about Aragorn." Elrohir said nonchalantly.

Buffy immediately went on alert. The Twins were up to something. And that sent shivers even down Elrond's back. "Spill it boys," she demanded, "What are you up to?"

"Buffy cares for Aragorn…" Elladan said in a sing-song voice.

"Buffy's about to go for her sword," she replied in the same sing-song tone.

"Come tithen dagnir," Elrohir said soothingly, "We merely wish the best for you and when we saw that you are fighting with Aragorn, we sought to ascertain why. If you desire him, why not let him court you?"

"Because the only reason he said anything is because Ecthelion told him to. He does it out of duty and because he can't have Arwen."

"Ada would kill him if he tried. And then daernaneth and daeradar would seek to do the same. Since naneth passed over sea, they keep a close watch on Arwen."

"I don't want to talk about this, ok?" Buffy said tiredly, "It's hard enough as it is without you rubbing salt into the wounds."

"As you wish Hiril Dagnir," the twins said together.

"Diola lle Elladan, Elrohir. I am sorry for being such a grouch but it's been a long few days and I could use some piece and quiet. Or else a few orcs to use as punching bags."

"Aye, we heard about the water incident. By chance, we did the same to wake Estel when we visited him. Obviously great minds think alike." Elladan said.

Their conversation changed to talk of other things and for the next two hours, Buffy and the twins shared news and tales, and reminisced about the days of old, also known as her days in Rivendell.

And when at last came the time to leave, they both hugged her and gave her a kiss on the forehead, apparently from Arwen, and with a few words of comfort and farewell, they slipped back into the night from whence they came.

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It was with a heavy heart and a burdened mind that Buffy opened the missives from Arwen.

Opening the package first, she was surprised to see a small bundle of cloth with a note pinned to it. '_Mellon nîn, may this give you the strength to face the shadow and the courage to follow your heart and live as you wish._'

Buffy unfolded the cloth to find a standard on it. She smiled tremulously, she had confided to Arwen that she felt out of place in Middle Earth, and that once her duty to Aragorn was done, she would have nothing to carve out a life with, not even the simplest things granted to someone Middle Earth born. After all, if they won this war and they would have to if Aragorn was to take the throne of Gondor, then Galadriel and Elrond would pass over sea. 'Twas duty that held them here and once they left, the children of Elrond and a good portion of the Elves of Middle Earth would go with them. All of Buffy's Elven friends would be gone, and she would be alone. Again.

But what Arwen had gifted her with was a last name. The standard was beautifully sewn and embroidered with a bright sun, it's rays shaped to look like the facets of jewels, done in metallic thread. The Elvish inscription 'Anormîr' was sewn underneath. It meant 'Jewel of the Sun' in Westron and it touched Buffy deeply.

Happily putting aside the precious piece of folded cloth, she reached for the letter and for the rest of the night, was content to read it and think of happier, more carefree, times.

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Having lingered around for the morning, waiting for the opportunity to present itself. And the minute he heard the bustle of one of the cook's underlings preparing to take some breakfast up to Thorongil, who had overslept and asked for it to be brought to the captains' meeting room, where he would have it while planning the next move for his company.

The powder would do its job well, being odourless and tasteless. Liberally sprinkling the poison into the fresh tea, the bread, and the scrambled eggs and a fresh pastry, making sure that it couldn't be seen.

Creeping out of the kitchens before any could see that he had been there and hastened upstairs to the meeting room. That thrice-damned man was there as expected and so he walked into the room with his usual composure.

"Thorongil," he greeted coolly, taking a seat at one of the other tables, "I have come to see if you had that armourer's report sorted yet. There is a good chance we may have to engage the Corsairs soon and the last thing I need is to have to carry the responsibility of your group because you have not enough sense to make sure they are properly outfitted."

The other man didn't give him a reply as a serving maid bustled into the room, bearing the tray of tainted food.

Eagerly, Denethor watched the man eat. 'Twas obvious he was distracted by something that he paid so little attention to his meal, but that suited his purpose perfectly. He studied one of the reports that that wench Eliza had finished while he waited for Thorongil to finish, occasionally interjecting the odd scathing comment to torment the man.

After all, if he could not laud it to the heavens that he was the one to restore glory to the line of the Stewards by getting rid of their only rival one and for all, he might as well make sure Thorongil was miserable, on this, his last day living.

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A/N: Well? What do you think? Please READ and REVIEW!

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Next chapter: Aragorn lies dying… Elrond gets some interesting news… And Denethor learns what it means to earn the wrath of a slayer…. All Balrogs please evacuate the vicinity

P.S - Aragorn is gonna be delirious. Anything anyone wants him to blab out to Buffy while in such a state? I'm open to requests and opinions.

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Elvish:

Ada/Adar - father

ionnath-nin - my sons

muindyr-nin - my brothers

thel neth - younger sister  
gwenyn - twins

Daernaneth - grandmother

suilaid - greetings

mellon nîn - my friend  
hiril nîn - my lady  
hir nîn - my lord  
hervenn - husband  
tôren - my brother

Nîn tithen tôr - my little brother

muindor - brother

pen neth - young one

Saes - please

Tithen - little

Edhil - Elves

pyn neth - young ones

thel mell - dear sister  
gwenyn o Imladris - twins of Rivendell

tithen dagnir - little slayer

Daeradar - grandfather

Naneth - mother

Hiril Dagnir - Lady Slayer

Diola lle- thank you

Anormîr - Jewel of the Sun

Palantír - one of the seven seeing stones that were scattered throughout Gondor and Arnor during the reign of Elendil. For the last few centuries, they have been considered unsafe to use as it is believed that one of them is in the possession of Sauron.

Dol Amroth - the royalty of Dol Amroth are believed to have an Elven foremother in their line.

_**P.P.S**_ - Does ANYBODY know how to deal with this new caching system of this site? 'Cos pages are like half downloading for me and none of the usual tricks to get the full page work! can anybody help me before i pull out all my hair? Kudos to anyone who can!


	8. All In A Night's Work

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's Note: For the sake of expediency, I say this now. There is a fairly long conversation in Elvish in this chapter. Translations will be beside the Elvish as it is spoken instead of at the bottom of the page as per usual so as not to drive readers insane! :)

And woohoo! Another long chapter! I swear my muse is running away with me… things are just being written from thin air that I have no idea where the idea came from! But hey, I'm not complaining! :D!

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Review responses:

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Andrea35 - there will be angst a plenty. The godmother to Faramir thing was a good idea but he's not born until 2983 and Buffy'll be gone by then. As for the dungeons thing, I think Aragorn would have managed to weasel his way out of that one. And no, it will not be like Angel's poisoning. He was a vampire and our ranger is not. Aragorn's not gonna drain her dry and nearly kill her. I don't think you'd get Aragorn, no matter how out of it, to drink the blood of anything! But her slayer heritage _will _have a part to play. And Gandalf will show up in a couple of chapters.

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Anna - Yep, that lovely betrothal between Arwen and Aragorn will be a nice dagger in the heart for one Elf and one Slayer. Legolas and Buffy will end up being friends, they're gonna meet fairly shortly actually. And Denethor is definitely gonna get some grey hair in this chapter…

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Arkee - I'm on a bit of a roll at the moment, though updates will slow to only one a week at most when school restarts. glares fitfully at the calendar As for Buffy not responding to Aragorn's advances, she doesn't feel like playing second best to Arwen, even if she is her friend. And your ideas on Aragorn's delirium are duly noted! :)

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Catlimere - They'd have to be aware of the plots first!

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ChibiChibi - I hope this update was fast enough for you! :) and yeah the twins were originally somewhat based on Gred and Forge but since then have sprung up very evil, very devious little lives of their own…

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Darkseed - Thanks for the heads up on the downloading!

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DragonStar - Her wrath will be very nasty indeed. Especially as it's gonna span a few years….

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Haley - Buffy has many, many ways of referring to Denethor. Few of them nice.

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Herald-Mage Brianna - Sorry if I'm confused, but in charge of what?

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Hungaloongs - the 'evil square' has been flitting around my mind for some time now….

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Immortalwizardpirateelf-fan - Yes, Buffy will be taking part in the War of the Ring. Whether she lives through it or not is another story… grins evilly And as for your quote, very good idea…

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Jennzabell - Aragorn - raised by Elves. Has no clue how to deal with a woman like Buffy. She's gonna give him plenty of practice for when Éowyn comes along! Denethor obviously has _some _redeeming qualities. They just never show up when Buffy or Aragorn are around. He's a little obsessed with Aragorn. When Aragorn goes, he may recover some semblance of sanity but 'til then… watch this space… As for your ideas, they've been added to my little stockpile marked 'Aragorn's delirium - embarrassing blabbing ideas'.

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Jess aka BRTW - Buffy's all the prophesy girl because the Valar gave it to her to keep a hold of Aragorn. He has a tendency to disappear when you're not looking, you know. As for the input, thanks a bunch!

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K. McKenzie - yes, it's Aragorn/Buffy and Arwen/Legolas. And your idea is duly noted!

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Lizdarcy2 - There will be pain in the future. Mucho pain. He will have angst, he just has to get his head out of the clouds before he sees his full folly. And as for the Slayer vs. Denethor… the man had no idea it would come to this…

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N/A - Well, it's not her fist, but knives have their own appeal as well…. Input duly noted!

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Pam - Aragorn will get his go at Denethor eventually, he has to recover first. The twins are scheming from afar, and your review was really excellent!

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Restive Nature - blushing like mad Wow! What a review! Thanks! I myself like the Aragorn/Arwen fics but I really wanted to read a Buffy/Aragorn for a change but there were so few! So I wrote one of my own! Thanks for leaving such a great and encouraging review! :)

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Seak - everyone to their own opinion.

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Sheilynn - the 'evil square' is go! And thanks for all the compliments! But that image of Gandalf thumping them over the head with his staff was hilarious…

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Shimmyontherooftops - In all fairness, grown up Boromir is much better than his father! And I do hope you're not gonna fall off that edge. I imagine it would be quite bruising too…

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Wild320 - Oooh, you're gonna be waiting a while before they're together _and_ happy! Our two favourite trouble magnets are not getting off that easy…

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Wizathogwarts - blushes Thank you! Your compliments were so encouraging! I'm always happy to know when people think I've written Buffy and Aragorn well!

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And major thanks to:

Batgirl Beyond, Brazen1, Crazicaza, deFox, Delphine Pryde, Dina, gaul1, imp17, Jania, Night-Owl123, Saint Maverick, Scruffybunny, ShawThang, Star, SuperDangerFrog, SuziJ, tash,

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CHAPTER EIGHT: ALL IN A NIGHT'S WORK

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And come he slow or come he fast, it is but Death who comes at last.  
- Sir Walter Scott  
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Imladris was a long way from the guarded city, but the twins' mounts were making swift work of the long stretches of road. Their riders, not having the need for rest that mortals had, were content to let the horses pick out the way home to the valley while they resumed the plotting and scheming they were feared for.

Ever since Estel laid eyes on his 'Tinúviel', both twins had despaired of him giving up his pursuit of Arwen. Many had oft said that Arwen walked in their foremother Lúthien's likeness, but they knew that their father had long harboured the fear that his daughter would be akin to Lúthien in more than just looks, but by sharing her fate as well.

The twins, while often merry and full of mischief, had the capacity to be just as serious as their esteemed father when they felt the need was great enough for them to abandon their play. And the life of their beloved sister was indeed a need great enough to induce them to behave.

"A question, tôren," Elladan said ponderously, "Do you think he can survive her?"

"She is not a Balrog, muindor. She would not actually kill Aragorn."

"Yes, but Glorfindel…"

"Insulted her," Elrohir pointed out before he could finish the question, "And Aragorn is perfectly capable of dealing with her. You fret too much."

"She can break ribs from excessive hugging!" Elladan exclaimed, "'Twould hardly be fitting for Aragorn to finally restore the lines of Kings only to be crushed to death by dear Buffy."

"I somehow think that is very unlikely to happen. She would notice if Aragorn were to turn blue."

"So we are to encourage them then?"

"I cannot see how we can do otherwise," Elrohir said thoughtfully, "Buffy deserves her happiness as much as anyone and I for one will not deny her that. They would go well together if both of them would just stop being too stubborn to see it."

"Tôren, the day that Aragorn chooses the easy road is the day mumâkil fly. You know he does not trust anything he gains unless he must cross the fires of Mordor themselves to do it."

"A trait he really must outgrow someday. It grows wearisome after the first decade of enduring it."

"Now that we have assured ourselves we do the right thing, how shall we broach this with ada?"

"I think even an orc could come into the valley, deliver such a message and have ada dancing with glee." Elrohir scoffed, "He has been hoping for such an announcement from Aragorn these past thirty years."

"Think you he will have many ideas to urge the pyn neth along?" Elladan asked.

"I think he will have so many he will not know which one to pursue first."

"And to round out matters nicely, and have everything simply perfect for ada, all we have to do is convince Arwen to fall in love with an Elf. Have you got any suggestions?"

"She does oft spend her time with Haldir while she visits Lórien."

"'Tis only because daeradar insists on her having an escort when she ventures near the borders!" Elladan scoffed.

"Rumil? Erestor? Glorfindel? Lindir?"

"No, same problem as Haldir, too bookish, too adar-like and sings too much." Elladan said, dismissing each suggestion in turn.

Elrohir looked at him askance, "I can list every Elf in Arda and you would probably manage to find something undesirable about each and every single one! 'Tis nonsense to try to choose for Arwen. Think of something more cunning muindor…"

Elladan's eyes widened in comprehension, "Daernaneth! Of course, the mirror! Arwen shall not know what befell her! Tôren, 'tis a wonderful idea! I think a stop in the Golden Wood is needed ere we reach home, yes?"

"Nay, Arwen is there. We cannot raise her suspicions. We tell ada first and then he can tell daernaneth."

"Yet another excellent idea, tôren." Elladan agreed, mind whirling with ideas to put forth to their all too crafty grandmother, the Lady of the Golden Wood.

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Aragorn was feeling absolutely wretched. He had made his leave of the training grounds when he could not take it anymore and had returned to his rooms, feeling achy and miserable.

As the morning had worn on, he felt like he was coming down sick. His head hurt, throbbing viciously, he felt unbearably hot and his concentration was fleeting at best. He refused to admit that he felt as weak as a day old kitten but he knew his adar would personally murder him if he neglected to go to the healers.

Normally, he would have gone to Eliza for succour, but with their recent quarrel, he preferred to let her temper cool down ere he approached her again.

Fumbling with the laces of his breeches with clumsy fingers, he hastily changed out of his dirty clothing and pulled on a pair of new breeches. It was while he was trying to fasten the ties on his tunic that the first bout of dizziness assailed him.

Light-headed from the sudden stabbing pain, he pressed his hands to his head even as his legs crumpled from underneath him. Blinking to try to clear the sudden black spots before his eyes, he tried to raise himself up from the ground and failed miserably.

His breath was coming in harsh, shallow pants and the detached side of his brain informed him that this was not a good sign.

He knew something was seriously wrong and that he urgently needed the healers but he was too weak and in too much pain to move.

As the poison swept through his body, wreaking havoc as it went, his world was reduced to a pain wracked blur.

And so when the oblivion of unconsciousness beckoned to him, he went willingly to escape the pain.

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Buffy stomped up to Aragorn's rooms with all the apparance of a woman on the warpath. The man hadn't shown up for their meeting with the steward earlier that day and Ecthelion had sent her to fetch him.

If it wasn't bad enough that she had to watch his back, she now had to play babysitter. Couldn't the man keep track of the time for once?!

Her skirts swishing on the stone floor, she stalked down the corridor to his chambers.

She pounded on his door, accidentally making the wood shake in her ire, "Thorongil!" she called when she heard no answer. She _knew_ he was in here, the servants had seen him go in but not come out so why wasn't he answering?

After a few minutes of banging on the door, she made up her mind to go in. "I'm coming in so you'd better be decent!" she shouted before flinging the door open.

She went through his rooms looking for him, entering his bedroom last, "You'd better not have fallen asleep on the job…. Thorongil!" she exclaimed, rushing to the downed figure on the floor.

From a cursory examination, she knew he was in bad shape. And that this was not naturally induced, people did not come down so seriously sick in the space of a few hours.

He had a bad fever, and she couldn't wake him up. Hurriedly flipping through her mental rolodex of illnesses, she came to the conclusion that she didn't have a clue what she was dealing with here.

Moving Aragorn so his head rested in her lap, she debated what to do. Aragorn was one of the Dúnedain, and they didn't get so ill without cause. Whatever was wrong with him, it was clear as day to her that she had to do something fast. She might not have a thermometer, but he was literally burning up!

Grabbing the taller man by the shoulders, she dragged him across the room to his bed and hefted him up on it. His weight might not be too much of a problem, but for someone as small as her, he was too awkward to carry.

Making sure he was as comfortable as he could be for the moment, she sprinted out the door in search of the chest of medicinal herbs and equipment Elrond had gifted her.

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'Twas when Buffy sped into Aragorn's chambers with her healing kit that the full knowledge of his plight was revealed to her. Placing her hand on his forehead so check his raging temperature, she was jolted into a vision, one of few that occurred while she was yet awake.

_A fine powder was liberally sprinkled onto the fresh tea, the bread, and the scrambled eggs and a fresh pastry, making sure that it couldn't be seen…_

The tray being placed on the table before Aragorn….

Aragorn drinking from the tainted cup…. 

Staggering back as the vision fled, Buffy's hands flew up to her mouth in shock. Here was something she was not well versed in…

Oh dear Eru… Buffy thought aghast, _poison_…

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"My Lord," a young maidservant said, curtsying as she slipped into the room, "The Lady Eliza sent this to you, my Lord. She said you must read it immediately for it is most urgent, my Lord."

Nodding to the nervous girl, Ecthelion took the rolled parchment from her and waved her away. Unrolling it swiftly, he read the scrawled script.

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Ecthelion,

Thorongil is very ill. I must stay with him in his chambers 'til he has recovered. I don't know what's wrong with him yet and I admit it's not looking good. His fever is fierce and is refusing to break and I cannot pinpoint the cause for this sudden illness as he is not awake to tell me anything. But I have reason to believe its cause is poison. Of what kind I do not know.

Suffice it to say, both of us will not be making an appearance in regards to our duties anytime in the near future. And it would be best if you covered for both of us so we don't arouse suspicion. If someone is trying to kill Thorongil, I'd rather not give them a second chance at it.

Eliza.

Re-reading the letter in shock, Ecthelion threw it into the fire to burn every trace of it. And with worry blossoming in his heart, he hastened away to the rooms of his favoured captain.

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Buffy was not altogether surprised when Ecthelion burst into the room. "I figured you'd come," she said, knowing that he was frantic at the thought as the last heir of Gondor lying on death's door.

"How is he? Have you any idea who did it?" Ecthelion blurted.

"He's anything but good and if I had any idea who did it, they'd be facing the sharp end of my sword about now."

"Is there anything you can do for him?"

"Without knowing the poison, not a hell of a lot except for trying to bring down his fever and keep him in the land of the living." Buffy said, wearily sinking into a seat besides the bed.

"But surely you can do _something_ to save him?" the steward exclaimed in dismay, pacing the room in agitation.

"I'll do everything I can but if you could have someone bring me a fresh change of clothes, some food for me, broth for him, some cold water and a few compresses and most importantly, every book or scroll on poisons the houses of healing know of, it would help a lot."

"I shall see to it immediately," Ecthelion agreed, "But surely there is someone with the skill to save him?"

"There is but they live too far away to be brought here in time," Buffy said. "Unfortunately it's gonna be up to us mere mortals to help him, or…"

"Or what?!"

Her reply was such that he had to strain to hear her damning words.

"Or he's gonna die," Buffy said softly.

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After nearly being knocked over by his father in the Steward's haste, Denethor soon dragged the reason for his father's disquiet out of him. As soon as the older man was out of sight, he had to resist the urge to curse viciously while stalking back to his rooms.

That Eliza was a constant nuisance to him! And entirely too lucky for his taste. She could not be allowed to save Thorongil, even if she could. He had worked too long and hard to fail now.

While he did feel sorry for Thorongil's plight, he had not done this out of his personal hatred of the man. Gondor had to be strong. This Aragorn's succession would only cause civil unrest at a time when Gondor needed every able man they could get to stand against the shadow.

He did this for the good of his people, for their future and the heir of Isildur had to die to secure that. He almost felt pity for the sharp-tongue healer as well. 'Twould have been better if she had kept well out of this. But now Thorongil's eventual fate would also have to be hers ere she discovered who had engineered his malady.

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Buffy had been poring through musty old books for the last two hours. Ecthelion hadn't been slow in getting the Houses of Healing involved and they had dumped huge stacks in the outer room and now she was blearily wading through them. Who knew their could be so many different poisons? Even her vision of the greyish powder hadn't narrowed it down significantly.

Aragorn had only gotten worse as the hours had gone by and Buffy was sincerely worried that he wouldn't pull through this. Elrond had been a very thorough teacher when it came to the injuries of war, but it took many years before one was skilful at anything besides the usual patch 'em up.

The only thing that stopped Buffy from calling in half the Houses of Healing staff to help, was that she didn't know who had done this. And that the would be killer had had access to the healing houses store cupboards wasn't entirely implausible. Which meant Buffy was on her own. Oh, if only Elladan and Elrohir had stayed a while longer!

Seeing Aragorn moving restlessly from his ever-climbing fever, Buffy bent over him to place a new cold cloth on his forehead. And while she was checking on the fallen man, she heard the tell tale sound of an arrow being loosed.

With lightning speed, her hand shot out and snatched the brown fletched arrow out of the air. Her hand clenched around it so tightly that splinters were embedded in her palm but Buffy had not been one of the most successful slayers to ever walk the earth due to lack of talent at her job.

Her long dress may have been more awkward to fight in but she'd had plenty of experience of demons attacking her at every sort of occasion, including her prom. Slipping the deadly knives she kept hidden beneath her ever present gauntlets into her hands, she pivoted sharply in the direction the projectile had come from, and only a quick dodge to the side saved her from an untimely arrow through her chest.

Launching herself over the armchair in her way, she deftly dodged the slew of arrows embedding themselves in the floor around her. Hefting her knives, she fully intended to capture this assassin, and make him explain very clearly what he had used on Aragorn.

With speed unknown to most mortals, and which was more than enough to surprise her assailant, she stormed into the outer sitting room, where a rapidly fleeing man carting a bow could be seen disappearing round the corner.

Scowling angrily, Buffy gave chase and soon overtook the shooter. Jumping him and knocking him flat on his stomach, she had a knee in the small of his back and a knife at his throat ere he could even cry out. "You even _think_ about moving and I'll slit your throat," she hissed.

Grabbing a fistful of the dark hair with her free hand, not caring if she cut it with the second knife she still held, she yanked his head up for a good look at his face and nearly slammed said face into the ground again when she saw who it was.

"Denethor?!" she gasped out, before her eyes narrowed with fury and the wrath of the slayer simmered beneath her skin, giving her an air so fearsome that Denethor closed his eyes in fear at the sight of her and tried to turn away.

"You poisoned Thorongil," she snarled, "And you tried to kill me. Tell me, what will your father do to you when he hears about this? Put you in the stocks or the dungeons? Exile you? Send you to the hangman's noose?" she said silkily, and with an underlying air of menace. "Perhaps I should take care of the problem for him?"

"You think that my lord father is going to believe a silly outlander whore over his own son and heir?" he said with as much arrogance as he could muster.

The blade at this throat dug into his skin painfully, drawing a thin line of blood. "I think Ecthelion is going to believe the arrows embedded in the floor of Thorongil's rooms," she answered before flexing the blade once more, "Now you're gonna be a good little assassin and tell me what poison you used on Aragorn. And I mean now." she growled, tightening her grip on his hair.

"It will not avail you," Denethor said with all the calm of one about to die for his cause, "There is no cure for what assails him."

"That's for me to decide! Now tell me or you're gonna find yourself missing an arm!" she threatened, removing her hand from his hair and instead pressing the blade to the inside of his left arm, just below his elbow.

Denethor swallowed but remained stoic in the face of his soon to be amputation, "'Tis from a plant that grows in the Morgul Vale. A poison used by the orcs. Called Gayalas. I have no antidote."

"Then I have no use for you for now," Buffy said, getting up but keeping a foot on the man's back to keep him pressed to the floor. "But I'll be back to deal with you later."

"You are loosing me?" Denethor said in disbelief. Buffy didn't bother to reply.

"Run little boy," Buffy said menacingly, "Because when I get my hands on you, you're gonna wish you had thrown yourself off a tower."

-------------------

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Rivendell. 2978, Third Age.

Two smugly smirking Elves, identical in face and form, sat before Elrond's desk in his study and he looked upon them with much amusement. 'Twas a rare treat to see the twins in such a manner. Smugly happy, without having caused havoc, which meant no long line of irate Elves waiting to vent their grievances on the unfortunate sire of two of the worst rascals to ever besiege Middle Earth.

"Well, what brings you here, nín gwenyn?" Elrond asked, breaking the deadlock.

"'Tis simple ada," Elladan said, "We bring you tidings from Estel and Buffy."

"Aye," Elrohir said, backing up his twin, "Great tidings indeed from our point of view."

Elrond was even more bemused now, and leaning back in his chair, he raised one elegant arch of an eyebrow, "Is this where I am supposed to ask you what tidings you bring or shall you just tell me?"

"Estel seems to have taken a fancy to Buffy, as has she for him." Elladan said bluntly, shocking his sire.

Elrond processed that information after his shock wore off and had to stamp down on the tides of rising elation. "What of regard for Arwen?" he asked carefully.

"I think dear Buffy should efficiently render him helpless to her charms if she would just agree to let him court her." Elrohir answered.

Elrond's intent gaze sharpened, "She has refused him?"

Elladan snorted most unbecomingly, "Out of some misguided sense of honour, and some… irritation at Aragorn's phrasing of such a request. We believe a little… encouragement should set things to right fairly quickly."

"Why Elladan," Elrond said amusedly, "Are you suggesting we meddle in the affairs of the heart between these two?"

Elrohir answered for his twin, "Of course! What else? And we want you to enlist daernaneth's help in this matter. We wish her to try and find Arwen's mate in her mirror so that we can attack this problem from two sides ere it steals our sister from us."

"My sons," Elrond began, a smile blossoming on his face, "For once, your mischief may be justified. I shall see you have all the aid you need. Let it not be said that the Lord of the Valley does not fail to ensure the happiness of others so dear to him." He met his sons' grey eyes, so much like his own, "Mayhap we can save Arwen from her foremother's fate after all. And to assure such a thing, I will do my utmost best to ensure that Aragorn and Buffy are wedded and bedded ere he ever turns his sight to Undómiel again."

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In the days and nights that followed Denethor's revelation, Buffy slaved to find a cure for the poison of the Morgul plant. But she was not skilled in the healing of wounds inflicted by Sauron and his servants and indeed, there were few left in Middle Earth to boast such skill, most having sailed West. Only Elrond and his children, including Aragorn, had any great skill in healing such maladies.

And after reading the grisly accounts of the deaths caused by Sauron's devilry, Buffy fully understood why so many never survived such illnesses. The victims died painfully and often slowly. And few had the strength or the skill to push back the shadow.

Buffy had nearly freaked, envisioning getting shouted at by Gil-galad, Elrond, Galadriel, the twins and Arwen when they found out that the last of Isildur's line, and her assigned charge, was dead. That would just go over _so_ well with them. Hell, they'd probably give her a first class ticket to wherever dead men ended up here. After all, though it was hard to believe, Galadriel actually knew the guy in charge of the Halls of Mandos. It was a scary thought that.

Finding the right book with the lovely little killer plant in it hadn't helped her morale any. It spouted a lot of long-winded waffle nonsense and the ever so helpful words 'no known cure'. And with a nifty side note, saying that there may have been some cases that were healed by the power of the Elves.

Who lived nowhere near Gondor.

And so Buffy had thought, and pondered, and pondered some more until at last she hit on something useful she might be able to try. It was a long shot. A very long shot. But hey, she thought, what did she have to lose?

Her theory went like this; The First Slayer had been a normal girl who had been forced into absorbing the essence of one hell of a nasty demon. Said girl had become the Vampire Slayer, the first edition model. Now that legacy of darkness had been passed down to every successive slayer, even if she did think Faith received just a little _too_ much darkness when it came to her share.

Sauron may be Lord of all Evil at the moment, but he most certainly was not the scariest big bad out there. Buffy, while fighting for the good guys, had the heritage of a demon. Why not make use of that? She'd seen Elrond do this trance thing a few times. Ok, he had the power of being inherently good, being an Elf and all that and she didn't have that.

But what she _did _have might just be better.

It was a crazy shot and it might even end up speeding the poison up. It was a risk she would have to take. Aragorn was dying anyway, even if she shortened the amount of time she had left, at least she would have tried instead of all this helpless watching and waiting.

Locking the door to the room behind her she prepared herself for the trial ahead. Crossing over to the bed, she settled herself down on it, leaning against the headboard and put one hand on Aragorn's forehead. By the Valar, he felt like he was burning alive! With mixed feelings, she drew out one of her knives. Picking up Aragorn's limp hand, she sliced a thin line into the flesh of his palm, and then did the same to one of hers. And then with a wince, joined their hands so that the bloody cuts mingled.

She placed her free hand on Aragorn's forehead and took a steadying breath, and tried to meditate, to reach that place where she could feel her power. Grabbing it with both hands, she held it firmly and tried to use that strength to force the poison out of Aragorn's veins. "Aragorn!" she called, knowing that Westron would not be enough for him to hear. The language of his youth was Elvish, and so Elvish she would have to use.

"_A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor, Aragorn. Ú or le a ú or nin. Lasto beth nîn. Tolo dan na ngalad_!" The Shadow does not hold sway yet. Not over you, and not over me. Hear my voice, come back to the light! she said, and then gasped for breath as she felt something, no.. _someone_ grab for her power, using her strength to fuel their own.

Almost immediately she knew she was out of her depth but she had chosen this, there would be no backing out until it ended. Still reeling from the violation of her very being, she uncertainly reached out in turn, totally ignorant of what she was doing, and felt for the one who leeched off her so readily. Her thoughts steadied when she realised that it was only Aragorn and that obviously Elrond was a lot more capable at keeping an emotionless face than she gave him credit for. If she had known this was what it was like!…

Whether she was ready or not, she had started this and she had to finish it, or stay in this strange limbo 'til one or both of them were dead. She gave herself over to her slayer self's urgings as it seemed to know what to do, and started when she felt a voice brush her mind. '_Tulu_' Help! it cried. And boy, just when she thought it couldn't get any weirder….

Pushing away her fear at this new phenomenon she was experiencing, after all Willow had always been the one to mess with the mojos, she reached out again to try and soothe his panic. After all, at least she had gone into this knowing something was about to happen. He, on the other hand, was panicking at the seeming invasion of his mind.

After all, she didn't give off the calming aura of an Elf, or the ordinary presence of one of the race of Men. Her heritage sprang from the darker side of things, and it was this that was panicking him now.

"_No veren! Govaetham! Ú i vethed... nâ i onnad. Mâb le i nagor, bâd gurth vi ngalad firiel Han bâd lîn." _Be bold! We shall fight together! This is not the end... it is the beginning. The war is upon you, death moves in the fading light. That is your path. she urged him, needing to secure his help in his own healing. She couldn't do all the work! She wasn't a miracle worker altogether!

The response came quicker this time, though still uncertain for he knew not her intent, but the tether that bound them together increased in strength as he actively pursued his own healing. "_Dolen i vâd o nin_." My path is hidden from me. he answered plaintively, lost in the poison."_Si peliannen i vâd na dail lîn." _It is already laid before your feet. Buffy reassured him, _"Si boe ú-dhannathach_." You cannot falter now.

"_Andelu i ven." _The road is too dangerous. he said as he struggled to follow her voice, struggled to come to his own survival.

"_Gerich varied nín." _You have my protection. Buffy said, trying to help drag him away from the clutches of death that swarmed him, and even as she did, she started to feel wearied herself. There was only so much she could give and keep her own life…

_Gur nín ped enni, dan ú-vedin_." My heart tells me to, but I can't go.

"_Dartho guin enni_!" Stay with me! Buffy implored him, she could drag him no further. He had to go the rest of the way under his own steam.

"_Si le nallon_!" Here I cry to you! Aragorn called in despair, knowing not whether to trust her any farther and fearing that it was Sauron that so masterfully gripped his mind.

"_Tolo hi_!" Come now! she demanded, pouring all her will into the call. Surely she was stronger than some half-dead Morgul sorcery?

"_Ú-belin teled. Le nallon hi ne daw. Telithar!" _I cannot come. To thee I cry now, in the night! They will come! he said referring to the dark magicks that sought to claim him and his life.

"_Telithach_! _No diriel! _" You will come! Be watchful! Buffy ordered, this was _not_ the time for Aragorn to flounder even if he more than a little right to do so.

"_Telithon_. But his weakness flows in my veins, I shall not make it back." I will come. Aragorn said, his own doubts assailing him now. He was lucky in some ways, Buffy thought, at least he had someone who had died twice already as his own personal guide back to the land of the living. And hopefully healthy.

"_Cenin venn veren ar vaer." _I see a brave and good man. Buffy reassured him soothingly, "Isildur's mistake will not be your own. You will make a good king. Do not despair."

"_Onen estel in edain. Ú-chebin estel anim." _I gave the people hope. I do not keep hope for myself. Aragorn said, airing his woes as his own doubts began to drag him back.

"_Hebo estel_." Have hope. she pleaded, not ready to have gone to all this trouble only to lose him. And for some other reasons that she refused to admit to herself at this point.

"_Im nauthon iol hen taith en úmarth dolel." _ I think this dream is a sign of coming doom. Aragorn said angrily, "Why do you torment me so? I have chosen exile, leave me be!"

"_ôl dûr ristannen. _Awake!" The dark sleep is broken Buffy said.

"_Man eneth lín?" _What is thy name? he asked, desiring to know who she was, this presence in his mind.

"_Berion in edain in ú-vill. Maethon an Ngondor. Maethon dam Mordor. Aníral toled an govaded nin?" _I protect the men who are not strong. I fight for Gondor. I fight against Mordor. Do you want to come to meet me?

"_Man sad tellil?" _Where are you from? he asked.

"_Bennin na Hellmouth. Io anann. Mín dagnir vaethanner dan uan. A dan affaeg. Cennin firn-i-chuinar nan had hen. Sa eithel i naid faeg. Maethannen vaer ar veren i goth." _I went to the Hellmouth. Long ago. We slayers fought against monsters. And against worse. I saw dead who lived at that place. It was the source of bad things. I fought the enemy well and bravely." Buffy answered sadly, feeling him draw further away from the poison with every word.

"_Man ceril?" _What do you do?

"_Im maethor a neston_." I'm a fighter and a healer. Buffy answered, her thoughts becoming increasingly slow as she grew exhausted from her efforts. But it was working, Aragorn was nearly there. Nearly safe.

"Awake Aragorn. Come back to me. Come!" she implored one last time and was rewarded with the sight of Aragorn opening his blurry eyes for a second. Relieved and exhausted beyond measure, she collapsed onto the bed beside the sleeping ranger, their hands still joined together.

And unknown to her, one slinking strand of the tether she'd forgotten to cut still lay between them…

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Buffy only woke after a couple of hours had passed, and she was surprised to see the moon had risen fully. She had only started her last desperate attempt in the early afternoon. And for all her rejuvenated healing, she was still bone tired and felt weaker than was her wont.

Checking on Aragorn ere she closed her eyes again, she was surprised to find him caught up in a dark dream, no doubt induced by the fever which, while it was no longer deadly, still raged within him, causing him to mumble deliriously.

Out of curiosity she listened for a while, not willing to wake him from the sleep he needed and indeed, too tired to care for her patient when she was in such a state herself.

"Then bitter will my days be and I will walk in the wild alone…" Aragorn said before his brow furrowed and he started to recite something that oft haunted his memory, "The One Ring, which shall be an heirloom of my kingdom. All those who follow in my bloodline shall be bound to its fate, for I will risk no hurt to the Ring. It is precious to me... though I buy it with a great pain… The markings upon the band begin to fade. The writing which at first was as clear as red flame, has all but disappeared, a secret now that only fire can tell… Ai! His weakness flows in my veins…"

She reached out to touch and sooth him back to a peaceful slumber lest he ended up hitting her while he slept, but stopped when she heard his next words. "_Mathon vorn_." I feel a darkness… he said restlessly, seeming to her eyes to be caught in something. A vision perhaps? She knew he was so gifted. "Into each generation one is born… to stand against the darkness… one in all the world…."

The familiar words shocked her to the core. No, it couldn't be! She denied. She couldn't have saved him only for him to desert her because of what she was! She couldn't force herself to be calm, the effort was too great for her sleep-weary mind. And so she listened to her undoing.

"Whither does she come? Through shadow and death… the one Chosen to stop _them…_" he trailed off when Buffy shook him lightly, unable to let him reveal her secret any further. It worked and he relaxed into the bedding, but the next thing he revealed cut her more than anything he had said before.

"Tinúviel! Tinúviel!" he cried softly, "Do not go from me my love! Lady Evenstar, fairest in this world, and most beloved! I beg of thee, do not leave me! My heart is ever yours…"

Buffy could listen no more, there was only so much one woman should have to put up with. But god, what had she expected with her track record? There was Angel, with the little pesky problem of losing his soul; Ford, who wanted to be a vamp; Scott, who didn't really like her; Parker, who was an utter loser; Riley, who wanted to be macho man and Spike, who was a demon for half of their relationship and who'd been wrongly used by her. Had she really expected her luck to change here?

She was obviously cursed.

Ignoring the urge to cry, and blinking back the tears that stubbornly welled up, she rose from the bed unsteadily and grabbed a vial of mild sleeping drought. It was mild and mostly unnecessary but it would stop Aragorn from waking her with his ramblings. Swallowing it, she settled in the chair by the bed and allowed the sweet lure of slumber to take her.

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'Twas nearly two days later when Aragorn awoke from his feverish sleep. Struggling to push himself up, he noticed Eliza, sound asleep, head and shoulders resting on the bed but the rest of her crammed into the chair beside. The very sight of her made him wince in sympathy.

Struggling to recall how he got here, he remembered vague impressions of some fiery pain taking him over, making him struggle for every laboured breath, and a woman… Eliza, nursing him. Strangely, he also remembered a voice inside his head, calling him back from the brink of death and giving him the strength he needed to fight. He shook his head at the very thought, and winced as his throbbing head protested the movement, and wondered at the absurd notions filling him.

Looking at Eliza, he saw the pale tone of her skin, and the dark circles under her eyes that bespoke of her exhaustion. She must have cared for him all this time. Strange though, that he equated her with the voice that had called him from the darkness.

Already, he could feel tiredness creeping up on him again and he knew that he would not be long awake today. He would have to wait to find out what had stricken him 'til his healer's own condition was in a better state.

Neither could he leave her in such a strait, she would be sore and stiff when she woke and the bed was plenty big enough for two.

Reaching out to the smaller figure, he gently gathered her to him and pulled her from the chair and fully up onto the bed. She stirred slightly, long lashes fluttering, but did not wake. Pulling the covers over her with arms that shook from his exertion, he rolled over onto his side and pressed his head to the pillow, content in the knowledge that all was well now.

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Buffy groggily stirred from her herb-aided sleep. Surprisingly enough, she was warm, content and feeling something strange, which she couldn't quite place… Secure, that was it. In her line of work, the feeling was fleeting if it ever came at all.

Logically, she knew something was up, she never felt this way when she woke, being a freely admitted early morning grouch. But 'twas only when she shifted that she felt the warm weight around her waist and the firmer warmth at her back.

Eyes snapping open, she found herself locked in an embrace with…. Oh dear Eru, with Aragorn! How the hell did she end up in the bed? She distinctly remembered sleeping in the chair! Obviously Aragorn had decided to be overly helpful in soliciting her comfort and she honestly didn't know whether to be pleased or horrified.

She held tightly to his hard chest, her head tucked under his chin, and he had looped an arm around her waist, holding her in place against him. If this wasn't a compromising situation, she didn't know what was! Not to mention that it had been just about eight years since she last got any and here was one yummy specimen…. Oooh, bad Buffy, she admonished herself, very, very bad Buffy!

And very bad Aragorn if what she felt pressing into her rear was any indication. Again, she didn't know whether to be pleased or horrified, but the thought that he was probably dreaming naughty thoughts of Arwen quickly soured her mood.

It was time to get the hell out of dodge before they both embarrassed themselves. Gently picking up Aragorn's arm, she wriggled her way out of his grasp, ignoring the fact that he tried to tighten his grip on her.

Standing up, and ignoring the resulting light-headedness and furtively trying to straighten out her blue wool dress which was now wrinkled beyond repair, she allowed herself one last longing glance at the man who held her heart, whether he wanted it or not, (Which he didn't), before she left to seek some food and to freshen up a bit.

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He was awake when she returned and he eyed her with unabashed curiosity as she carried a tray of light food to him. She felt better now that she had changed, had a bath and eaten some food herself.

And it was nice to see him alert instead of delirious for a change. "_Aníral maded? Aníral sogad_?" Do you want to eat? Do you want to drink? she asked, holding the tray aloft in invitation. At his nod, she plopped the tray onto his lap and swiftly felt for his temperature, "_Man mathach_?" How do you feel? she inquired, wanting to make sure the poison was well and truly flushed out of his system.

"_Im maer._" I'm well. he answered stoically but after a disbelieving and irritated look from her, changed his tune, "_Im lhaew_." I'm ill. he answered honestly before switching to Westron, "What happened?"

Buffy ignored his question and gestured sharply for him to start eating, "_No ce ammaer ab lu thent." _Hopefully you will be better soon. she said, "But I still want to know exactly how you're feeling buddy. In detail."

Aragorn winced at the very Elrond-like tone; the one that meant 'tell me now or I shall drag it out of you and then drug you for the next week.' "My chest hurts, my head hurts… in fact I ache all over. My strength has fled me, I feel weak and tired, and this broth is making me nauseous."

"You haven't been on solid food for a week, you need to eat this," Buffy said sternly. "And if you're a good boy, I might just tell you how you landed in here."

Glaring balefully at her, he eat quickly and soon was trying to bore a hole into her with eyes to induce her into giving him some idea of what was going on.

"You were poisoned," Buffy said bluntly, "By your esteemed fellow captain Denethor. You nearly died, and I'm not exaggerating here. No one expected you to survive."

"Denethor? Poisoned me?" Aragorn said in surprise and anger, "Why?"

"He said something about it being for the good of Gondor. I was a little busy threatening him at the time to pay attention to his 'for the greater good' ranting."

"Threatened him?"

"Exactly how did you think you are still here, in the land of the living?" Buffy asked, "After he tried shooting you, or me, I'm still not sure on that, I _encouraged _him to tell me what he'd done to you."

"Is he still alive?" Aragorn asked.

Buffy glared at him, "For the moment anyway. I only threatened him with amputation. No biggie."

Aragorn digested that and then took a deep breath, "Then it seems I owe you a great debt. This is not the first time you have saved my life. I do not know how I can repay you."

"How about not trying to die so often?" Buffy said flippantly, "It would give me more free time if I didn't have to spend it all patching up you. Now listen here, you're not getting out of that bed until I say so. Or there will be some nasty consequences, for you anyway. Got it?"

Aragorn nodded his head in acquiescence, his mind occupied by the recent assassination attempt.

"I'll see you later than," Buffy said, "There's a little boy I've got to go deal with."

-------------------

As Buffy left in a swirl of skirts, Aragorn contemplated his most recent foray into the world of the nearly dead. Denethor would not have attacked without reason, and that meant that either Denethor _really_ wanted him dead or he had figured out his true identity.

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That would most certainly be enough to rouse the proud lord to perform such deeds. But it also made one thing abundantly clear to Aragorn; his time in Gondor was almost over, and the time for him to leave was swiftly approaching.

He could linger here in the land of his ancestors no longer. He had already overstayed his time.

Eliza knew more than she was saying also, he was certain. She had spoke of his poisoning by Denethor too casually for one who did not know what goals lay behind it. And then she had mentioned something about the steward's heir trying to shoot her? He shook his head, now was not the time to be debating Eliza's motivations.

She had saved his life many times over and for that alone, he would have to trust her.

He just wished he could trust Denethor not to take advantage of his weakened state to finish the task he had started…

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Unbeknownst to Aragorn, Denethor was a little… occupied at the time. Being attacked by a blonde she-dragon had a way of clearing your mind of other priorities. Eliza slammed him into the wall again and he felt the air leave his chest with a great whoosh. She circled him, poking him with her sword every so often. "What am I to do with you?" she mused as she eyed him like a hawk would a mouse, "You tried to kill a good friend of mine. Not to mention me! Do I really have to tell you exactly how I feel about that? 'Cos I'm in enough of a snit as it is."

Denethor gulped as the blade found a resting point in a rather sensitive place, a lot lower than his neck. "Should I cut this off?" Buffy said evilly, "I'm not sure whether you should be allowed to breed and bring more of your stupidity into the world."

She turned around and when she next faced him, he took back the dragon comment. No dragon could be this fearsome. He had to keep himself from quaking at the very sight of her.

"Now, I'm gonna be nice and not kill you like you deserve," Buffy said icily, "But you are gonna stay away from me and Thorongil or I'll have your daddy hang you in a nice public execution. Do I make myself clear?"

He nodded weakly.

"Whatever Thorongil decides to do with you is unfortunately up to him, but I'm sure you understand that I can't allow you to run off and try to kill someone again. This is gonna hurt you as much as it hurts me. I think." she said as she swiftly grabbed and snapped his sword arm. Denethor howled in pain as the bone broke.

Buffy looked at him stonily, "I'll probably get in trouble for only doing that and not killing you, but I'm not about to stoop to your level. I'm no murderer. Stay out of my way Denethor, or you may force my hand towards something I don't wanna do."

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A/N: Well? What do you think? Please READ and REVIEW!!!

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Next chapter: Aragorn wages war on the Corsairs as he plans to leave Gondor… The pirates get the luck to meet that 'fair-haired she-warg' again… and Buffy gets an unexpected, and not exactly welcome, surprise that may have grave consequences for her beyond her imaginings…

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Elvish:

tôren - my brother

Muindor - brother

pyn neth - young ones  
Daeradar - grandfather

Daernaneth - grandmother

gaya - dread

Las - leaf

Gayalas - dread-leaf  
nín gwenyn - my twins  
Undómiel - Evenstar

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The guarded city - Minas Tirith. The city was once called 'Minis Anor' - 'Tower of the Sun' but it's name was changed when both Minas Ithil and Osgiliath fell.

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Imladris - Rivendell

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Morgul Vale - once housed a city of Gondor called Minas Ithil 'Tower of the Moon' but was overrun by Sauron before the Last Alliance. It is now a province of Mordor that houses the Ringwraiths that do not hold Dol Guldur in Mirkwood.


	9. Where Eagles Dare

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's Note: thanks for the reviews! This chapter is somewhat shorter than the previous few because this chapter originally wasn't planned to end where it did but because the chapter was getting way too big, I split it in two! Enjoy!

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Review responses:

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Anna - Aragorn has his doubts, which are going to be put to rest in the next chapter or two. And jealousy from who? Because there's going to be plenty of that going around! Lots of green eyes monsters!

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Andrea35 - No, there's no prophecy about those two as yet, though it is an idea! As for Buffy going with Aragorn after he leaves Gondor, the answer starts in this chapter! Good idea about Gandalf, and yes, the Legolas meeting will be interesting. As for Aragorn's and Arwen's betrothal, definitely gonna be a dagger in the heart. The surprise is not gonna be revealed in one go, unfolding so that hopefully most people who are not me will be guessing for a while! :)

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ChibiChibi - No, he's not showing any slayer traits so far. Cool idea though!

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DeFox - Quick enough for you?

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Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell - blushes madly Thank you! And cool name by the way! Sorry, couldn't kill Denethor. He has to live to be the crazy guy in RotK! :( And Gandalf will be around in a while. Thanks for the comments on the twins. I personally love stories with them in it! Námarië!

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Gaul1 - No, Aragorn won't really remember anything but that won't become clear until the next chapter.

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Haley - The Corsairs will be a big bunch of scaredy-cats.

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Herald-Mage Brianna - Oh! Trust me if Elrond, Glorfindel and Erestor, the only ones who live in Rivendell that can restrain the twins somewhat were to abandon ship, the rest of Rivendell would join in them instead of being victims to the twins!

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Jennzabell - Oh, the surprise for Buffy is ongoing and Aragorn related. Starts at the end of the chapter. Yeah, Thorongil and Eliza are really doing one helluva in the dating department! Ecthelion and Denethor's fate is next chapter. As for the connection, will be explained later! No, he doesn't remember the slayer speech. Yet.

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Lady of the Wood - the answer to your question: during. If they make it that far. grins slyly

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Malfeus - blushes Ahh, thanks! Reading your reviews is always nice!

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N/A - No, the tether thing won't be made clear for a couple of chapters yet! Thanks for the compliments! :)

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Pam - thanks for the comments on the twins! They're very fun to write! About the bond, yeah, there will be something. Just a little more than Buffy would ever have suspected though! Yeah, the twins and Elrond are troublemakers alright but just wait until Galadriel and Celeborn get in on the action! laughs evilly Thanks for all your encouragement, I actually think I can feel my head swelling as I type!

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RedsLover03 - No, no memory as of yet.

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Restive Nature - blushes again Thanks! Good call on Buffy and Aragorn by the way. You've really grasped the story which makes my little heart go pitter-pat! Thanks again!

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SapphireOrchids - Thanks! About the Elvish, I'll start doing it after this chapter.

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Super Rice Ball - 'A Light to you' is underway and no, I'm not giving up on it.

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And major thanks to:

Delphine Pryde, DragonStar, Night-Owl123, Ral (thanks!), _Tkiwi, Wild320_,

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CHAPTER NINE: WHERE EAGLES DARE

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All of this chapter is set in the year 2980 of the Third Age, approximately the month of Narvinyë (January).

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"You would have me start a war?" Ecthelion asked lowly.

Aragorn paced the room like a caged tiger, grey eyes intense as he put forth his argument, "The strength of the rebels in Umbar is a great peril to Gondor, and a threat to the fiefs of the south that will prove deadly, if Sauron moves to open war." he replied, "War with the Corsairs that is over and won is better than fighting them along with every other faction the Dark Lord throws against us."

"Thorongil," Ecthelion said dryly, "If Sauron moved to open war, we would not have the strength to repel him even if he only sent his orcs to assail us. Yet, knowing this, you ask me to pull my forces away from rebuilding Gondor's strength in preparation for Sauron's strike, in order to launch an attack on an enemy I am not sure we can defeat. It is folly."

"It is the only thing that may save Gondor in the end!" Aragorn argued, "The time for being cautious has long since past. You have little left to lose in such an endeavour."

"And if the Corsairs try to overrun us?"

"Then the knights of Dol Amroth should be enough to drive them back from whence they came. The Corsairs are too great a threat to let them go unchallenged. You must act!"

"'Tis one thing to say what must be done and another thing altogether to do it." Ecthelion said, "I cannot, in good conscience, throw away the lives of men loyal to me."

"I am not asking you to. I am asking you to let me take my company to battle with the Corsairs, with the intention to strike them hard and fast, with as much stealth as we can muster, so that we may destroy their strength of arms, and hopefully, their fleet."

"Ambitious plans even for you, Thorongil," Ecthelion mused, "Though tell me this, if I say nay, would you take your company anyway? They are most loyal to you, they would heed your summons."

"I would do what must be done," Aragorn admitted, "Leaving this threat unchallenged does not sit well with me. Especially not when the consequences of such inaction could be so dire."

"And if I grant you my permission, will this be the last I see of you?" the steward said, perceptively noticing what Aragorn was loath to tell him.

"Keen are the eyes of Ecthelion!" Aragorn said with a slight laugh, "Aye, 'twould be my last sojourn for Gondor. Though you know as well as I that my time here ended nigh on two years ago. I can linger here no longer but I will face the pirates one last time ere my departure."

"Your going pains my heart, and my head tells me that if you achieve this victory, then Gondor shall not see one as such until the king comes again." He sighed heavily, "Your going shall be as the shadow falling. Denethor my son will not hold the borders, and what we hold of Osgiliath will fall. I can only hope that the White City stall stand to see such glory as may be its due restored."

Aragorn could say nothing that would make light of such predictions and so kept silent.

Long did Ecthelion sit and say nothing, but after a few minutes he nodded wearily and came to his decision, "You have my blessing in this endeavour Thorongil, my best captain, and I shall wish you well when word of your leaving comes to me. Take your company and use the fleet to carry them south. As you started, so shall you end. Leave them crippled and ruined, Thorongil. And if you know not how to do it, ask your lady, she has proved many times that she is the type that can incite riots and chaos anywhere she pleases."

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Many hours later, buried under a mound of collected and summarily discarded plans, Buffy and Aragorn took sips of their now not so warm mulled wine that they often indulged in in the chill of winter and debated where they would go next. "I still don't see why you have to plan this out like you're declaring war on Sauron," she said to him, "We're basically looking to get in, destroy as much as we can, and get right back out, right? So, if you think about it, any plan we have is going to be useless when the Corsairs get wind of us anyway. So, I think we should do this my way."

"With your little death squads?" Aragorn said with some amusement at the title she'd given them.

Buffy rolled her eyes, playfully hitting him on the shoulder, "You know perfectly well what I mean Thorongil," she admonished, "But I still think splitting the men up and giving them targets to destroy is the best bet."

"And I agree with you. But as Ecthelion reminded me, you have always been the best at inflicting damage."

"And proud of it!" Buffy gloated, "Now that that's settled though, me and you have got something to talk about."

Her expression was so serious as to set off little warning signals in Aragorn's head, "What do you wish to speak of?"

"How 'bout where you're planning on going after this?" she said blithely.

Aragorn did not even bother trying to figure out how she knew. He had learned long ago that Eliza had her own means of getting information and trying to deny anything was useless as she would make her own mind up on that point.

They had become closer than he could have believed possible over the last two years since she had pulled him back from the brink of death, but he was not about to do justice to Ecthelion's long ago predictions by letting her get any ideas of coming with him.

"Where I am going is none of your concern, save that you are the most likely choice to be promoted to my captaincy position." Aragorn said firmly.

It didn't deter her in the slightest. "Thorongil, if you think for one moment that you are getting off that easily, you've got another thing coming!" she said with all the air of one used to getting answers, "You _will_ tell me where you're going and when, because I'm coming with you, like it or not!"

"You are not coming with me!" Aragorn exclaimed, "And my business is my own! Whether we are friends or not, my life, and all my decisions about it, are my own to make. Without interference from you!"

Buffy wasn't put off by his rudeness, "It's time for you to understand something _Thorongil_, as you obviously haven't figured it out yet. After hearing your family all telling me how smart you were, I had expected you to have put all the puzzle pieces together long before now."

Aragorn was puzzled himself now, and very wary, Eliza looked predatory for some reason. And talking about his family? 'Thorongil' did not have any family. "What are you talking about?"

"Your life is mine to guard," Buffy said quietly, "I was charged to do it by Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel themselves. You go, I go. You can't get rid of me that easily, Dúnadan, I'm here to make sure no one knifes you in the back. You can come find me later when you've sorted things out but don't try to avoid me. That only makes me cranky. And a cranky me is not one you want to be arguing with."

With that, she got up and left, leaving Aragorn to totally re-evaluate their entire relationship in light of this new discovery.

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And so within a few days, Aragorn mustered his company and took his fleet down the Anduin to the harbour of Umbar, where this pivotal battle would be fought.

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Umbar, 2980, TA.

As Buffy waited with the portion of men allotted to her, her breath fogging from the cold, she fumed silently. Normally not one for patience in the first place, she'd now had to deal with Aragorn avoiding her ever since their last conversation when she'd spilled some of the beans.

That smarted, especially since she knew he was planning on taking off after this if they won, and very obviously wasn't planning on having Buffy tagging along.

And so it was that one vampire slayer had worked herself up into a towering temper and was way more than willing to unleash it on some unsuspecting pirates. She was on destructo-girl duty again, which suited her just fine.

Making things go boom and bye-bye was therapeutic.

She and her troops were loaded up like pack mules with all sorts of alcoholic beverages. Buffy's ideas for setting the quay on fire. With nowhere to run, the Corsairs would have no choice but to face the Gondorian solders. Who would, of course, be waiting for such a runner and would try and cut down the fleeing captain hooks.

Reaching out with her senses, she swiftly located Aragorn. Ever since she'd done that thing for him two years ago, she'd developed some kind of Aragorn radar, which she called her Buffy-dar, and could find him with her eyes closed.

Making sure he was ready, she vowed to keep an eye on that skulking, sneaking ranger. She wouldn't put it past him to try and get away in the excitement of victory and by the Valar, she was gonna be there waiting for him if he tried it!

Distractedly noting the signal for her group to start, Buffy started 'lets trash the Corsairs ships' round two.

Her little alcohol bombs were launched at the ships, the docks, the few buildings scattered round and pretty soon the place was ablaze quite prettily if Buffy could say so.

As she led the charge to start slicing and dicing some Corsairs, she wondered why she felt such an ominous feeling at the back of her mind.

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As Eliza played decoy to the now infuriated Corsairs, Aragorn and his men played it stealthy. Using the confusion and distraction to slip by without the pirates seeing them, they made to surround the house of the Captain of the Haven. It went without saying that to capture him would be a coup indeed as he would know much about the Corsairs plans for Gondor.

Unfortunately, their target was not in residence and the nearby Corsairs quickly spotted the new group of Gondorians in their midst.

With a curse for his ill luck, and a war cry to rally his men, Aragorn leaped into what was possibly the biggest battle of his career so far.

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The Corsair captain in charge of the personal defence of the Captain of the Havens could not believe his atrocious luck.

Blinking rapidly, he tried to convince himself that he was only having a nightmare and that She was not here, burning his vessels, killing his crew, burning his bloody docks! What, in the name of Sauron, had he done to deserve _this_?!

The fair-haired she-warg was back, and it was here for the kill.

Nervously eyeing the elite bodyguard, (none of his men, mind!) he wondered if he could somehow slip away and go somewhere very, very, very far away from Her. He knew that She would not leave much standing and that She would kill him if She found him. He knew what She was capable of and the very thought of it left him quaking.

He now envied his crew, who at the first sight of Her, had scattered to the four winds, running as fast as their sailors' legs could carry 'em before they met the cold steel of Her sword.

Unfortunately, he did not think that the Captain of the Havens would let him run off like that.

"Um, my lord captain, sir," he began nervously, "I'd be thinkin' that we'd better be getting out of 'ere. That… wench over yonder, she's as nasty as they come and ye'd be a fool to fight 'er. She'd be the one responsible for me losing me boats."

The Captain of the Havens, swarthy, scarred, ruthless and the most gaudily dressed man in the harbour, was surveying the damage, which was looking irreparable, with a well of growing anger. "Ye be saying that that lass would be the one who caused ye to be a coward and lose yer ships and yer men?" he asked.

He shifted timidly, "Aye, She'd be a monster, my lord! Vicious as anything! We'd best be gettin' out of 'ere."

"No, we'll be a-seeing if this 'monster' is as vicious as ye've been saying. No Corsair is goin' to run from a mere wench!"

To the underling captain, his lord's words sounded like a death knell or perhaps the foreshadowing of doom to come.

"Why me?!" he moaned.

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Buffy knew something was up when a group of strangely dressed Corsairs, and by that she meant that they looked at least somewhat normal, started firing arrows at her for no apparent reason. Scrambling up the rigging, she quickly found out that she'd scaled a sinking ship. Literally.

Which meant she had to get rid of the little bowmen who weren't playing fair.

Pulling her own bow from where it was strapped to her back, she notched what arrows she had left and let them fly. Problem was, that only took care of about half of her would be assassins.

Jumping over the side of the ship, and landing on the now very precarious, and madly burning, wood of the docks, she circled around the assassins' places and managed to come face to face with a very surprised Lord of the Havens and a very familiar Corsaid captain.

"Haven't I sacked your ships before?" Buffy said as the man's eyes widened impossibly. And was he shaking?

The Captain of the Haven stared at the woman who'd appeared from nowhere like a shadow and let out a roar, "Guards!"

Buffy watched the little assassins that could as they came racing towards her. Oh, this was just great! Deciding to leave the stupid lord alone for the moment, she grabbed the junior captain as a human body shield and skedaddled back, trying to find some open space that wasn't on fire.

All around her hissed the crackling of the flames, the clash of steel meeting steel, the twanging of bows, the sound of the Corsairs' harpoons firing, and the screams and shouts of men. The harbour of Umbar was large, and as far as even her eyes could see, it was filled with men, fighting and running, and the burning boats and buildings which were falling down around their ears. The sweltering heat made it hard for most of the men to fight, fearful of being burned alive by the swift moving flames and even Buffy wasn't immune to that fear.

Somehow she didn't think slayers were built to be charred either. But on one of the boats, she spotted something through a porthole that swiftly gained her full attention. Pulling the captain after her for a bit and then tossing him into the arms of some of that stupid guards, she took off at a run for one of the burning boats. A boat, in which she had seen quite a few blonde heads looking to be freed before they went down with the ship.

And even Buffy knew that in Middle Earth, that many blondes gathered together meant Rohirrim.

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Buffy was scraped, sooty and wondering about heatstroke when she finally made it aboard the ship. Now that she was nearer, she could hear their yells for help, camouflaged earlier by the massive amounts of noise emanating from the huge battle.

Descending below deck, the ringing in her ears from the shouts soon showed her where to go. Pulling the strong metal lock off the door through brute strength, she was nearly bowled over by an avalanche of about fifty poor souls that were the Corsairs' captured slaves, forced to row their ships for the rest of their lives.

Leading the pile up were some of the Rohirrim she had spotted. Broad across the shoulders, and with the build of American football players, they'd been trying to cave in the door with no success.

Needless to say they were surprised to see their rescuer, even more surprised than Buffy who they'd nearly knocked on her rear. Hearing the ominous creaking of the burning ship, and deciding she really didn't want to be on this tub right now, she spoke swiftly and clearly. "I'm Eliza, I'm with the Gondorians. All the ships are burning so let's get out of here! Feel free to kill as many Corsairs as you like!" she shouted as she led the way out.

Buffy led the sizeable procession out and standing on the deck, was faced with a dilemma. "Okay, the gangplank is now in ashes so either try to climb the rigging or jump. Either way, get off this ship before it sinks!"

Barking out the orders with all the flair of an experienced captain, General Buffy was back in business.

Satisfied with the men's progress, she failed to see the danger coming in the form of one shaking Corsair captain who had followed her.

And so Buffy never saw the boom coming until it hit her, and with a great thud and splash, Buffy Summers was thrown overboard.

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Being flung into the water head first did nothing for Buffy's temper. Pulling herself out of the water of the harbour, she was absolutely livid. She was sopping wet, looked like a drowned rat and thanks to that pig of a pirate, her armour was gonna rust! She was going to kill him!

What was it with people always trying to drown her anyway?

Spotting the miscreant, she gave chase across the docks, swiftly catching up with the fleeing pirate and once she was in ranger, throwing one of her knives into his kneecap. He fell to the ground as his leg crumpled underneath him, allowing Buffy to plant herself in front of him, hands on her hip.

"You just had to do it, didn't you?!" she snarled, "Do you have any idea how much it's gonna cost me to get some more armour?!"

The corsair captain was shaking. Someone up there hated him. He just knew it.

In fact, it was only sheer luck that was to save him, as fifty odd, hopping mad, former slaves joined in the battle, stunning Corsairs and Gondorians alike. While her back was turned to watch the improbable display, he managed to crawl over to one of the now common gaping holes in the wooden planks, and threw himself into the ocean.

The splash caught Buffy's attention. "If you think I'm going in there again to fish you out, forget it!" she called, "There's plenty more pirates to kill round here!"

And then she decided to tag along with the group of slave-leading Rohirrim, in case they decided to get themselves killed. And quite happily, she let her anger rip through the ranks of pirates that came to meet them.

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While Buffy was off on her adventures and Buffy's men were busy destroying everything in sight, Aragorn finally got his chance. Spotting the Captain of the Haven, and seeing that his circle of guards seemed to be wholly inadequate for some reason, Aragorn gave chase.

The Captain was waving his sword around, wildly gesticulating and shouting obscenities at his men. But his thoughts quickly turned from anger at his men's incompetence back to self-preservation.

Especially seeing how easily Aragorn slew his supposedly elite guards.

Meeting him sword for sword with an angry roar, the two men battled it own on the quay. Blocking, parrying, ducking and thrusting, they danced around each other, each judging the other's skill with a blade.

The Captain of the Haven was no sluggard when it came to wielding a sword, but Aragorn had not trained with the Elves for nothing, and 'twas soon enough when he overthrew the Captain and slew him there and then.

And that turned the tide in their favour.

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The Captain of the Haven was the only man who the other Corsairs had feared enough to stay and face Buffy's wrath for, he being very close to Sauron as the rumour went. When he was slain then, many did not waste time fighting a losing battle, and gathering what little remained of their fellows as they went and abandoning even the booty they treasured so much.

And so the Gondorians had won, and such a battle it was that 'twould undoubtedly go down in song. The destruction of the Corsair's base of power was no mean feat and having surveyed the vast and mostly irreparable, at least anytime soon anyway, destruction that Eliza had devised, the victorious Captain Thorongil decided to withdraw his fleet back to Pelargir, where much celebration awaited.

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Pelargir.

At the Gondorian port of Pelargir, much revelry was underway as the joyous and triumphant men of Gondor celebrated their crushing victory over the rebels. Long did their party last but when the skies darkened, their beloved captain stood up and made an announcement that shocked every single one of company into near speechlessness.

To men's grief and wonder, Thorongil announced his intention not to return to Minas Tirith, where great honour awaited him, citing that his time here was done.

And this message did he send to the Steward Ecthelion, to be carried to him by the most senior ranking of his men, since he knew Eliza would not. "And to Lord Ecthelion say this; Other tasks now call me, lord, and much time and many perils must pass ere I come again to Gondor, if that be my fate."

And then, ignoring the dismayed calls of his men, Aragorn disappeared into his tent, only to be faced by an already packing Buffy.

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"What are you doing here Eliza?" Aragorn asked wearily.

Buffy flicked her still damp braid over her shoulder, and looked at him like he had just asked if the sun rose in the morning. "I'm packing," she said, not pausing in her task, "After all, I figure you'll want to leave pretty soon before people start begging you to stay."

"You are not coming lady!" Aragorn said angrily. Though he knew she was an exceptional warrior, the very thought of Eliza following him into Mordor chilled his heart. For some reason he did not know, and truthfully, did not want to acknowledge, he could not bear it if harm came to her because of him. 'Twas his fate to walk the wilds alone, not with the beautiful, intelligent Eliza accompanying him.

Buffy smiled disarmingly, like she was placating a child, "Oh, yes I am. I guard your back, remember? That would entail being somewhat near to you. And Denethor tried to kill me too. I've put up with looks that could kill for the past two years. To be truthful, I'm kinda grateful to be getting out of there."

"I will not allow you to come!" Aragorn said firmly, "'Tis my decision and I have already made it."

Buffy sidled up next to him, "Are you at least going to tell me where you're going?"

Aragorn gently put his hands on her shoulders and shoved her away from him, "No. This task is my own and I shall allow no other to journey with me."

"Elladan and Elrohir would no doubt have something to say about that!" Buffy said, "They said I am to follow you and guess what I'm gonna do?"

"How do you know about Elladan and Elrohir? Why should I let you come? You haven't even told me your real name or why you ever came here?"

"You never asked," Buffy pointed out, "For some reason, you didn't ask for the last couple of years and I don't think in the middle of a full, and more than a little drunk camp, is the place for such a serious talk."

She took his silence as encouragement, "Let me come with you and I'll tell you everything on the road. I promise."

Aragorn took a deep breath. It was clear to him now that she would not take no for an answer. She would disregard everything he said and follow him anyway. She was more than good enough to find him. He could not remember ever evading her for long in Minas Tirith, why should the wilds be any different?

He would not, - no, could not, let her take such a risk. Her life was important to him, more than any other friend he had made in Gondor, and he could not just stand by and let her walk with him to their deaths.

He knew she was still talking but he paid no attention to the words. Eliza would follow him no matter where he went, unless he was too long gone ere she set out. She would never think of Mordor as his destination. If she knew his family as she claimed, she would presume that he had returned to Rivendell.

She would either head for the hidden valley or return to the guarded city, but he knew how to accomplish such a goal.

But how to do it?

He had seen her take blows that would have crippled a normal man with nary a flinch. Hitting her over the head was not going to render her unconscious, no matter how much he wished it.

She had gotten angry when he had ignored her and he swiftly gave her a hug designed to look as if he was trying to calm her down. But his expert healer's hands travelled up to her back, to a point just beneath her neck, to a small hollow at the base of the skull. Before she could realise anything was amiss, he deftly applied force to the pressure point and was rewarded when she slumped into his arms.

Placing her gently on his bedroll, he knew what he had to do next.

Knowing that 'twould last only a few hours at most, he went to the healing kit he brought everywhere with him, and pulled out a couple of herbs. He swiftly made a tonic that was designed to induce deep slumber.

Spooning it through slack lips, he felt some guilt at what he had done but it was far outweighed by the sense of relief that she, at least, would be safe. The company respected her greatly and would make sure no harm came to her.

She would probably hate him for this, but he hoped one day she would understand.

From originally being a nuisance to him, she had evolved into one of three women he held close to his heart. His mother, Gilrean, the holder of his heart, Arwen and his… Eliza. Pressing a soft kiss to her temple, he bid her farewell, logic telling him that this was most likely to be the last time he would ever see her.

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That night, his men watched in silence as their beloved captain took a boat, and crossed the Anduin with nary a word as to his destination. Having said farewell to his companions on the boat, they were concerned to see the direction in which he headed.

Because when he was last seen his face was towards the Mountains of Shadows… In Mordor….

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A/N: So? Opinions please! Please READ and REVIEW!!!

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Next chapter: Aragorn has his first encounter some deadly foes…. Buffy's on the warpath… and the Slayer launches an invasion of Mordor…

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Elvish:

Narvinyë - Quenya for January

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The guarded city/The White City - Minas Tirith. The city was once called 'Minis Anor' - 'Tower of the Sun' but it's name was changed when both Minas Ithil and Osgiliath fell.


	10. To Come Out of Shadow

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's Note: thanks for the reviews! And **_please take a look at my QUESTION _**at the very end of this chapter as it involves serious plot developments depending on the person chosen.

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Review responses:

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - Merry and Pippin? That would be funny! And yes, she will be continuing on and kicking butt all the way up to Fellowship time.

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Anna - Buffy _will_ find Aragorn. _Where _she finds him is the problem! And Buffy's definitely making a name for herself!

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Batgirl Beyond - (nods head). eats a lot of things… But Buffy's gonna have to make her way through a _lot_ of obstacles before she can find Aragorn and kill him…

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BuffyandDracoLover - both actually.

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Catlimere - No, Aragorn can't sense Buffy though it will take Galadriel to explain why to her. And yes, it's gonna be a very big Elven conspiracy! (grins) Yep, Buffy's 'warrior maiden' ways will be Éowyn's bedtime stories! And the Rohirrim rescue will benefit her in the long run. The Twins? They could probably involve half of Arda! And let's just say that Aragorn's going to be pretty damn grateful to see her. That man just lives for trouble!

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ChibiChibi - Buffy's gonna show a LOT of people not to mess with her in this chapter!

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Delphine Pryde - He should learn. Eventually. But yes, there will be lots and lots of pain.

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DeFox - I'm proud of being evil, and trust me, plenty of more evilness on the way! (cackles madly)

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Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell - Mae govannen! :) Oh, she has met little toddler Boromir, I just never wrote it into a chapter. It probably won't come up until she meets him again in Rivendell. Ok, to answer your questions, I made Aragorn go to Mordor because it says that that's where he went after he left Gondor in the appendices. No reason was disclosed so I made one up. Read on to find out. As for the betrothal, oh that would be giving too much away but let's just say there's gonna be four people on Cerin Amroth, and only two of them happy. (grins evilly) My beta told me that I was pure evil for planning what I have but you'll have to wait to see if you agree. As for the Moria, you have given me an idea there. (grins again) and so yes, I will write about Aragorn's first visit to Khazad-dûm. And thanks for all the compliments, you're so sweet and encouraging!

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Fallenadieu - (blushes) Thanks a bunch! Such praise always leaves me giddy! :)

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Gaul1 - I think 'ready to kill an entire HORDE of orcs' is Buffy's mad level.

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Haley - Thanks for the comments on the one-liners. Honestly, I just write and then discover the nuances of what I've written later. I've decided when I'm being Miss Super-Speedy Updater at the moment (at least compared to my usual pace!), with my muse working overtime, to just write what comes to mind and check it over later!

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Herald-Mage Brianna - Too true.

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Janellybean - when are they gonna get their acts together? Gee, that's a tough one. So many obstacles, so little time…

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Jess aka BRTW - You're forgiven! I want my cookie now! And Aragorn's ass will be kicked, just not by her. Yet.

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Jo - Buffy will most definitely be hopping mad when she catches up to him! Especially when she finds out where he is!

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Lady of the Wood - Aragorn was around _ninety_ at the time of the War of the Ring. Boromir was like forty years younger. Aragorn was born in 2931, so he's forty-nine now in 2980, which the present chapter is set in. Buffy was twenty-two when she arrived in ME, so she's thirty-two now, though she's soon gonna realise she hasn't aged a day. Boromir is two at the time. During the War of the Ring (3018 - 3019), Aragorn will be 87/88. Buffy, being seventeen years younger, will be the very elderly age of 70/71. Boromir will be 40/41. But please remember, those descended from the Númenóreans have longer lifespans and most only show their age at the end of their life.

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N/A - the surprise started with Aragorn knocking her out and the 'Buffy-dar'. Said surprise will continue to evolve until Galadriel spills the beans.

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Pam - The good genes skip a generation, they all bypassed Denethor and went straight to Boromir and Faramir. And yeah, the pirates are based on Jack Sparrow and his gang of pirates. That film was the quintessential pirate flick. There can be no better portrayal of a pirate in my opinion. Buffy's surprise, was in part Aragorn's action against her, but it will be constantly unfolding until she's back in Lórien, (about two chapters away) where it's gonna kick her in the gut. And Aragorn wasn't thinking so much with his head as with his (being wilfully ignored) heart.

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Restive Nature - Thanks! And Aragorn will have a world of hurt _already_ by the time Buffy catches up with him.

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Samarakerina - Beyond mad is not an adequate description. As for your addiction, well, here's your next fix!

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ShawThang - Thanks a bunch! You're so encouraging! And yeah, Aragorn's a wanted man. Literally.

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Shimmyontherooftops - Hitting him is a bit out of the question at the moment. She has to get him first.

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Wild320 - To answer your question, there will be in the future.

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Wizathogwarts - Aragorn had to choose between idle curiosity and keeping her alive. At least, that would be his reasoning. I'm sure Buffy would see it _very_ differently.

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And major thanks to:

AznMi, Boo, Jania, JeanB, Malfeus, mari, (you're alive!),_ Night-Owl123, Tkiwi,_

****

CHAPTER TEN: TO COME OUT OF SHADOW

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All of this chapter is set in the year 2980 of the Third Age, approximately the month of Narvinyë (January)

Buffy woke up slowly, her head felt kind of heavy but she was warm and comfortable and she wanted to go back to sleep. But that idea was put aside thanks to a little niggling feeling at the back of her mind. Giving up any thoughts of a lie-in, she rolled over onto her back and tried to remember had she been drinking. She couldn't have a hangover, could she?

Memory flared then as the events of last night came back to her. Her eyes snapped open and she was sitting up in a flash, sheer fury twisting her features, "I'm gonna kill him!" she hissed, as she got up, ignoring the slight dizziness, "So he thinks he can knock _me_ out and get away with it!" she snarled as she stomped over to the tent flap, "I'm going to show him the meaning of the word 'pain'! Stupid chivalry-loving, medieval knight wannabe!"

Throwing open the flap with a fierce scowl, she reached out with her Buffy-dar to try and find where he was hiding. She was going to rip him a new one! He'd be _crying _when she was through with him!

Her Buffy-dar seemed to think Mr Soon To Be Dead Aragorn was nowhere near. Her mood going from livid to fire-breathing mad! Death was obviously too good for him. Way too good for him.

Storming through the camp with all the impact of Sauron himself, if he had been marching through it with about a thousand orcs, her thoroughly fearsome expression scattered men in her wake, most of them deciding not to get within twenty feet of the obviously rip-roaring mad lieutenant. Especially not when she was fingering her sword and muttering to herself.

Never let it be said that Gondorians didn't have a good sense of self-preservation.

Sadly, her under-lieutenant didn't get a chance to run and before he could find somewhere to hide from the rampaging slayer, she had him cornered. "Where. Is. He?" she hissed.

Taron, the poor under-lieutenant, gulped and took his own life in his hands by saying, "Who, my lady?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed into thin slits, "Thorongil! That's who!" she shouted, "Where in the name of Eru is he?!"

"He left, my lady."

"Well, I know that! Where. Did. He. Go?!"

"He crossed the Anduin two nights ago, my lady."

Buffy blinked, taken aback, "_Two _nights ago?!" she said, "And _why_ did no one wake me?"

"Captain Thorongil left orders not to, my lady."

"He resigned! Why the hell did you follow them?!!" Buffy yelled, throwing her hands up in the air, "Great, so he's got a two day head start on me! Just brilliant! I don't suppose you saw where he went, did you?"

"The men that ferried him across the river said that he was headed in the direction of the Mountains of Shadow." Taron said nervously, fidgeting slightly under her fierce glower.

Buffy gaped at him for a minute. By the Valar, Mordor! What was the idiot doing in Mordor?! Did he have an even bigger death wish than he already had?! By Eru, why couldn't her life ever be easy?!

------------------

Firing in her very abrupt resignation to the now thoroughly shocked and panicked under-lieutenant, who didn't have the slightest clue how he was going to explain this all to the Steward, Buffy headed back to her tent to finish packing. She was gonna have to move double-quick to catch up with that sneaky little pig Aragorn.

'Twas a brave man that intercepted the fuming slayer on her route back.

Buffy levelled another of her black glares at the Rohirrim that waylaid her. "Move out of the way, I don't have time for this!" she snapped, knowing that with every passing minute, Aragorn was getting further away from her and closer to his death in Mordor.

The blonde man didn't flinch, and didn't beat around the bush either, "I am Éomund of Eastfold, chief Marshal of the Mark and I am in your debt." he said, bowing formally, long blonde hair falling into his eyes as he did so, "Shelter and succour shall always be found for you in Rohan and by the scions of my house."

Oh, why now? She moaned inwardly. She kept thinking of Aragorn, marching into Sauron's stronghold and all but carrying a sign that said 'Isildur's Heir. Please kill me.'

Taking a deep breath, she answered.. Éomund, was it? "Your offer is most gracefully accepted but there is no debt between us. You killed a fair number of pirates afterwards so consider the score settled and get back to Rohan. Now, I'm sorry but I have to go! It's urgent!"

He bowed again and let her pass and to stop anyone else from delaying her, she sprinted to her tent, grabbing her half-pilled pack and stuffing everything into it. Dropping her Gondorian issued sword, she pulled the Elvish weapons Galadriel had given her out of the depths of her baggage. While she served Ecthelion, it would have been stupid to use them but now that she was going to have to follow that mush for brains man into Mordor, she was bringing every weapon she had.

Thanks to the Corsairs, the armour she had worn last night was going to be well on its way to rusting so she pulled on Galadriel's gift of her coat of mail, throwing on a clean tunic over it and belting both swords around her waist. She hastily did up her gauntlets, slipping her customary daggers under the hardened leather, and fastened her treasured mithril knife to a strap on her thigh. Throwing her cloak over the ensemble and grabbing her bow and quiver, she grabbed her pack and the provisions she had prepared and headed over to where the horses were stabled.

Aragorn had not taken a horse which meant that she could use her lively mare, Fireball, could help her overtake him before he landed himself in more trouble than he could handle.

She really was too short to swing herself up and onto the saddle but she and Fireball had a long standing arrangement worked out. Fireball lowered herself to her knees so Buffy could clamber on and then stood up, leaving Buffy comfortably mounted.

Nudging the horse into a canter, she muttered all the while about Aragorn's utter stupidity. Even _she_, the Vampire Slayer, scourge of Evil, knew better than to go near Mordor.

When she got her hands on that man, she was going to kill him. And then she would deliver him back to Rivendell, (hog-tied of course) and let Elladan, Elrohir and Elrond kill him. And along with anyone else who wanted a shot as well, as she was feeling generous towards everybody with a valid excuse for wanting to torment Aragorn.

She studiously ignored the little pangs of pain in her heart at the thought of Aragorn being dead.

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Several days later, the news came to Minas Tirith that Gondor's best officers, Thorongil and Eliza, had left for pastures unknown. The people mourned the loss of their favourites, as ardently as if they had died and not just left the country.

Denethor could not have been more pleased. Finally, after over a decade of struggling and having to live through his resentment, his rivals were gone. And as the men said that both of them had been headed towards the Ephel Dúath, he realised he need not have bothered trying to kill them two years ago. Apparently, Isildur's heir was just as mad as his forefathers if he sought to take on the might of Mordor. And at last Denethor was free of the multitude of threats that,… that thing Eliza was so fond of giving him at least once a week. The harlot had broken his arm with no punishment for assaulting her lord, at all! Disgraceful little wench!

Ecthelion was not blind to his son's overwhelming happiness at the same news that greatly sorrowed him. He had held his tongue for two years at both Thorongil and Eliza's behest but now that they were gone, nothing bound him anymore.

"Are you happy now that you have driven away Gondor's only hope?" Ecthelion said wearily, surveying the only child and son that was too often a disappointment to him.

Denethor's face hardened, it seemed he would never receive his father's goodwill or praise. It was, as usual, saved for Thorongil. "He was never Gondor's hope, he was Gondor's bane. Ever urging you to draw away more men from these walls… It was only sheer luck that most survived his folly."

"His folly in achieving so great a defeat over the Corsairs that they will not trouble us for many years? His folly in winning nearly every charge he led? Or was it his folly in not doing as _you_ wished and giving you the glory you crave, that you speak of?"

"Still you defend him, even though he has abandoned you. Why can you never have such respect for me, your own flesh and blood?" Denethor said angrily, "Ever have you chosen foreigners to praise and reward, and you never give me a mere scrap of the love you held for that vagrant."

Ecthelion very much looked his age. Well into his twilight years now, he could do nothing but watch as all he had built would come to ruin, through the folly and pride of the boy he had sired. "I had one child, a son," he said softly, "Great expectations I had for him in his youth. But now, I see that his pride has overtaken him and all that I have accomplished will be undone ere the end. I cannot praise you Denethor, because you have given me nothing to praise. Instead, you undermine my authority, you cannot put aside your differences for the good of your country and your people, you have tried to murder a good man, a fellow captain, in cold blood because he was loved better than you."

He shook his head sadly, "No, Denethor. There is nothing there to reward, though I do love you in my way. How can I not? You are my son. But I tell you this now, I offered Thorongil the stewardship of Gondor but he refused. I offered it to him because he has proved himself to be a worthier man than you. You hate him for it, but your follies are your own fault. You're become a bitter man and because of your pride, you will only become more bitter as the years pass. When all that you have done crumbles around you and the shadow marches forth. You think too much of yourself, my son, but hear me now, the Stewardship will be yours, I have not many years left to me. But though you will be Lord of Gondor, you will find that your sway becomes less with every year and unless you can put aside your pride and accept the King back, then you will be doomed."

"Words of wisdom, father?" Denethor said scornfully, dismissing the advice, "Gondor will flourish under my rule as it has not done under yours. You seek to cast a shadow over my happiness this day but I see it for what it is. Thorongil is gone. To Mordor if the rumours are to be believed. He is as good as dead. And with it, his cursed line. Gondor is mine and it will stay mine. Gondor has no king. Gondor _needs_ no king."

"'Tis your favourite saying, my son, and the biggest sign of your idiocy," Ecthelion said tiredly as he left his son to his celebrations, "Ignore my words if you will, but one day, you will know them for truth."

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'Twas a long, hard trek to Mordor, he had had to go across long abandoned South Ithilien and over the Mountains of Shadow. But a great task called him, events started in motion by a summons from Gandalf the Grey.

Gandalf had imparted much news that was worrisome, and what he had not said, the foresight of Aragorn's line conveyed to him. The Elendilmir, heirloom of his house, had been stolen from its Dúnedain keepers by thieves unknown.

His foresight had come to him then, and he knew that the treasure of his house was on its way to Mordor, if it was not already there. He knew full well that his foster father would be most angry with him for straying into Mordor, saying that such a thing was not worth his life.

But he himself felt, that if he was to someday be king, 'twould only come after Sauron was defeated. And how could he help wage a war on the Dark Lord if he had never entered his borders?

His head was beginning to regret his decision, while his heart urged him on. This was his destiny for some reason and he would have to fulfil it.

Mordor was a barren wasteland, there were no plants that were not poison, no water that was fit to drink and ever did smoke from Mount Doom fill the skies and taint the very air he breathed. He also knew that Sauron was rebuilding his strength of old, dwelling in the rebuilt Barad-dûr. That meant battalions of orcs lurking in this land, but he was the most skilled tracker of the Dúnedain. He was confident he could evade them, even if they knew the land better than he. The orcs would not wander far into such barren lands unless ordered to by their master.

But even as Aragorn stealthily snuck through the land of his enemy, his naiveté condemned him. For Elrond, his foster father, would not have pointed out orcs as the first problem. Any Elf who had fought in the Last Alliance would have warned him that the Nine now rode again, if only in Mordor so far, and 'twas a deadly peril to one such as he, with Númenórean blood in his veins and garbed in the gear of Gondor.

But Aragorn had not yet encountered their like and so did they surround him without his knowledge. The Ringwraiths, some of the most feared of the servants of Sauron, came upon him, garbed in black and upon black steeds. And though he was a valiant and excellent fighter, he could not take all of them at once, not in their own stronghold and without any weapons that could deter them, the foremost being fire or running water.

Long did he block their blades but even as he landed a gash on one of the Black Riders, the blade of his sword crumbled to dust in his hand as few blades could withstand the might of the Ringwraiths and their sorcery.

And so it was that he was taken captive, yet even as he fell into darkness, he latched onto something that he had not known was there and a plea for help was sent.

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It was official. Buffy _hated_ Mordor. By the Valar, no water, no food, no grass, no interesting scenery. Terrible weather, she also hated riding into the Middle Earth version of ovens. Did the Dark Lord have to have a working volcano? She couldn't even take a bath! And to top it all off, she'd had to leave Fireball behind her in South Ithilien, as there was nothing for the poor horse to live on if she took the animal into Mordor.

And so, here she was, trudging into Mordor, without even the benefit of having the slightest clue where she was going. All she could do was follow the Buffy-dar to Aragorn. And by Eru, if she found him in Barad-dûr, she was killing him herself and Elrond could shout at her all he wanted about the stubborn ranger.

And let's not forget the whole sleeping problem. Slayer she may be but by Eru, she needed some rest. But here, in Mordor, with no one to share a watch with? Yeah, she was really going to have a great time trying to make camp in what was essentially, Monster Land.

But even as she tried to make light of her situation, she couldn't ignore her worry for Aragorn. She just had this feeling that something was up. One of her slayerly hunches obviously, but she wished that it would be a bit more specific.

If the Valar saw fit to give her some foresight, the least they could do was give her an on and off button. C'mon, how come when she wanted it to work, it never did? And when she was busy or up to her eyeballs in something, they sprang on her then? It was just not fair.

But as she saw the smoke coming off Amon Amarth, or Mount Doom as it was called in the common tongue. Personally Buffy thought the name was a bit 'Dungeons and Dragons' computer geek thing, it _really_ reminded her of Andrew's style of thing.

But if it was a silly name, why did it fill her with dread? And why, did she feel as though, one day, she was gonna see a lot more of that mountain than she ever wanted to?

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Later that night, Buffy's rather grumpy wish was granted when Aragorn's plea for help was sent through their as of yet unknown and unacknowledged bond, hitting Buffy with all the force of a freight train.

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((((( Nine Black Riders…. A sword that reeked of evil… a shape moving in a dark tunnel…. A luminous tower made of shining marble… a winding steep stone staircase with thousands of steps… a dark tower… orcs… and a name… Cirith Ungol…. )))))))

Buffy awoke with a jerk, her hand flying to the hilt of her sword as she processed what she had just seen. Apparently Aragorn was in major trouble. Again.

And now that she was aware of it, she could feel this… nagging in her head. It almost felt like…. No, it couldn't be! But it sure as hell felt like it, she mused. Could Aragorn really be calling her mind to mind like when she pulled him back from his poisoning? She shook her head to clear it, she had no time to deal with this now.

There was one word for what surrounded Aragorn at the moment, and that was Evil. Though Trouble could probably do just as well.

The Nine Riders… she had never personally faced them but she knew them to be nearly impossible to kill, deadly as anything, and very nasty. Not exactly the people she wanted to be visiting. In her time as the slayer, she knew very well how hard it was to face all these 'un-killable' monsters, and that the worst ones were the ones that were neither living or dead, like the wraiths.

As for the fortress…. She knew Cirith Ungol was one of two main routes into Mordor, a tower built by the men of Gondor that had been overrun by Sauron. Trouble was she didn't really know where it was.

Pulling out the only map of Mordor that she could find before she left the camp to play 'let's chase the really stupid ranger', she scanned it for the name bequeathed to her.

"Damn!" she hissed when she saw where it was. Right next to Minas Morgul, home of the Nine. Well, if Aragorn had gone by that route, she now had a fairly good idea why he got caught. And to think rangers were supposed to be stealthy!

It was a long way away though, she was nearer to Emyn Arnen, and the Morgul Vale was all the way over to the other side of Osgiliath.

If her hunch was right and Aragorn had gotten picked up by the Ringwraiths, he was on borrowed time.

She could only hope that he could hold out until she got there.

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The fortress of Cirith Ungol. Once a of the Dúnedain strongholds built to keep watch on Mordor.

As it happened, Aragorn was being subjected to the famed 'hospitality' of Cirith Ungol.

Being brought in the High Nazgûl himself, Aragorn had become a prisoner of special interest for the orcs of the fortress. He had woken up to find himself being carried towards one of the fortresses of Mordor by a foul Ringwraith but together their power was so great that he could no nothing to aid an escape attempt.

Since then, he had been harried passes the Two Watchers, the likes of which sent shivers down his spine. He knew the Nameless Land had creatures of much evil and malice, but to see them with his own eyes, things that belonged to races that should never have existed… it was horrible.

Thrown into a cell, he had been stripped of his weapons and valuables. He heard the orcs fighting over who would have what after the Nazgûl had finished inspecting the items.

They had then subjected him to a cursory interrogation by the orcs, which to Aragorn's mind, seemed more of an excuse to beat him into senselessness more than any attempt at extracting information.

But he really did not want to dwell on the state the orcs had left him in. It only seemed to accentuate the pain if his mind was not occupied with other things.

His only saving grace so far was that they did not seem to know whose blood flowed in his veins. They thought he was a warrior of Gondor, not the unfortunate Heir of Isildur. But he had heard tales of the Dark Lord's might and knew that he had ways of finding out things that others would have kept hidden.

At least he had not been taken to Barad-dûr, he consoled himself. From the Dark Tower, no one escaped. But from here, in this tower near the Spider's Lair, he at least had some small chance.

And he had already seen what he had come for, though it was out of his reach. The Elendilmir was stored with the booty the Nazgûl had collected on their, for now, rare sojourns out of Mordor.

He would be able to take it with him when he got out of here. _If_ he got out of here.

At least Eliza was safe, he thought gratefully. He had spared her the fruits of his folly by forcing her to remain within the camp at Pelargir. He could not bear the thought that he had dragged her into this dark hole with him. On that, at least, he could rest easy. Gilraen and Arwen were sheltered by the power of Elrond, and Eliza was surrounded by some of the hardiest soldiers in Gondor.

The pain in his ribs increased sharply when he moved and he hissed in pain. He had not yet been in captivity long, yet he knew that if he did not make his escape soon, he would be in no fit state to stand, let alone fight his away out of the tower and away from Mordor.

Logically, he knew he should be panicking right about now. The line of Isildur was about to end, and he had no heir to succeed him. He himself was probably going to die a rather bloody and brutal death and yet somehow, impossibly, he was rather calm and collected for a man on the verge of a very painful death, far from anyone who could have helped him.

For all that he knew he was trapped in a barren wasteland, only populated by servants of the enemy, Aragorn could not shake the feeling that somehow, someone was coming for him.

Someone that was not Sauron.

Wherever this newfound confidence came from, he did not know, but it was nice to have some hope left to him in the one place where such things were forever extinguished.

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The pass of Cirith Ungol. Translated into the Common Tongue as 'Shelob's Lair'.

Buffy warily eyed the entrance to the tunnel ahead of her. She had climbed the steep Winding Staircase from the Morgul Vale and had at last come to the tunnel which led to the fortress where she thought that Aragorn was being kept.

Her slayer senses were going wild, which meant something probably unpleasant was waiting in the darkness for her.

Oh well, it probably wasn't going to be the first monster she'd have to get past to rescue the fool ranger. What was it with men and getting themselves in _way_ over their head? Was it testosterone related or something?

Stepping into the dark passage, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. What on earth was that smell? Probably rotting corpses, her logic supplied her with an answer. Eeugh! At least Vampire's were dusted once you killed them and weren't overly fond of dragging their meals home with them.

It really made her wonder what she was sharing her breathing space with.

Moving quietly and quickly through the dark tunnel, slayer eyesight enabling her to make out her path without resorting to lighting a torch, she accidentally banged off a narrowing wall once, and felt something sticky attach itself to her clothes.

Examining it closer, she identified it as webbing. Spider webbing. Oh that was just brilliant, apparently Mordor had all the average beasties, right down to the killer arachnids.

She guessed that she'd covered perhaps half the tunnel's length when her foot crunched down on a skeleton, and with a start she noticed that the webbing on the walls had grown thicker, fresher, and that the ground was littered with the corpses of dead animals and what looked to be orcs.

Something scuttled in the dark and her slayer senses tingled, warning her of an incoming enemy and she drew her Elvish sword, waiting for the monster to come see if it would like to challenge the slayer. No damn spider was gonna keep her here for long.

Upon seeing said spider, she realised she may have underestimated the creepy crawly just a teensy weensy little bit.

It came forth with a venomous, bubbling hiss, like air deflating from a tyre, if it was evil air at least. A creaking noise accompanied the shape as it scuttled in the shadows. It looked at her from its hiding place with deadly regard, and all the great malice that only the most evil of beings had.

Buffy's senses reeled, this was an ancient evil. Older than nearly everything she'd fought before, save perhaps for the First. Which was obvious when you thought about it, as it did call itself the 'First Evil'.

"Are you not going to come out and face me?" she demanded coldly, "Or are you going to hide in the shadows a bit more like a big baby?"

The spider monster didn't seem to care for prey that talked back to it and it came forth, creaking and swaying.

The first thing Buffy saw was two great clusters of many-windowed eyes, nearly overshadowed by the huge horns on the head of the arachnid, suspended by a short stalk-like neck. And after that came the main body, which was huge with a capital 'h' and ugly with a very big capital 'U.G.L.Y'.

It's body was swollen up, looking like a huge black bloated bag of ick, that sagged and swayed between her legs. It was blotchy, the marks almost looking like foul blood but it's big belly was pale and luminous and stank like nothing Buffy had ever been forced to put up with before.

She thought the almost steel-like spines sprouting from its legs were supposed to be hairs, but it was difficult to say when they looked razor sharp. And at each leg's end was a definitely sharp claw, almost like a pincer.

It most definitely the ugliest spider, and perhaps monster, that she had ever had the displeasure to encounter.

It didn't seem to mind feeling the sting of her sword too much as it advanced on her, dark eyes alight with the desire to hunt, to feed, to devour Buffy.

Buffy's feelings on the other hand were much more mixed. One part of her brain said 'kill! Kill!', the other said that she really didn't want to end up covered in the contents of that stinking stomach.

It was at times like these, she really wished she had a nice big spear. Or even a quarterstaff or crossbow. With monsters like these, one really didn't want to get too close.

And not just because one didn't want to look like the creature from the slimy green lagoon.

The spider lunged at her and Buffy took a swing with her sword but the creature had surprising agility and much to Buffy's chagrin, had the ability to climb walls where Buffy could not.

Their game of cat and mouse continued on unabated for some time, Buffy not wanting to know if the stuff dripping from its claws was poisonous or not.

But the time came at last when dodging was not going to cut it anymore and Buffy swung madly with her sword to counter eight sharp pincer like things trying to rip her to pieces. Her sword jammed in one of the spider's knee joints and it let out a screech but Buffy couldn't get her weapon out again with the creature moving to and fro.

Just as the pincers descended on her, to cut and poison her, she grabbed her mithril dagger and stabbed it into the soft, glowing belly. Shelob let out an almighty screech and staggered back. Even as Buffy yanked out her sword and dagger, the spider was fleeing, scuttling away from her, cradling her wounded belly and leaving long trails of black blood and gore in her wake.

Buffy stared at her dagger in amazement, and reread the inscription carved on the Elvish blade, '_Gûd daedheloth, Dagnir i thang im' _was engraved there, meaning 'Foe of Morgoth's Realm, the Slayer of the enemy throng I am.'

She had heard of the great spiders that aided Morgoth, but surely that couldn't have been one of them, could it? But the way it had seemed to fear the long knife where it hadn't feared her sword, how else to explain that?

Shaking herself out of her musings, she moved off into the darkness again, keeping a wary eye out in case the spider came back for more punishment.

After all, there was no time left for debate, she had her ranger to save.

------------------

The fortress was huge, and darkly imposing. Eyeing the way it was built into a sheer drop, she now knew why this place was feared. There wouldn't be much left of anyone after falling onto those rocks, especially not from that height.

She also knew that these fortresses had been built to keep the foul things of Mordor in, which meant it would be easier for her to get in there than say, oh, Barad-dûr itself?

The main entrance was a set of double doors with bars of iron over them. She was super-strength girl, that wouldn't be a problem. She always liked making an entrance.

The problem were the two monster thingies parked out front. The Two Watchers had vulture-like faces, huge bodies, black stones for eyes and claw-like hands. They literally seemed to be carved out of stone, which would make them pretty painful to punch. But for all that they should be big blocks of stone, something evil wreaked from them.

Whatever they were, they were most definitely alive, in a loose sense of the word. They knew when someone came near. Some dreadful spirit of evil vigilance abode in them. They knew an enemy. Visible or invisible none could pass unheeded. They would forbid her entry, or her escape.

Buffy knew her weapons would do no good against these. She'd looked at them with an experienced eye and if they could move from their posts without permission, she was an orc.

They were watchers only, on eternal sentry duty. Which meant she could get past them easy enough. The problems would only begin when they raised the alarm, however they did it.

Stepping up to the double doors and ignoring the shrill, ear-splitting cry the monsters le out. She swiftly bent the iron bars enough to slip through, and then kicked in the heavy wooden door. From above, an answering signal rang through the air, when a harsh bell clanged a single stroke.

Entering a wide and echoing passage, which was pitch dark save for the occasional torch, killing any orcs she came across and soon they stopped coming after her altogether, fearing the warrior with Elvish weapons and fearsome look.

Feeling the Buffy-dar kick in, she made to follow it up a set of high, steep and winding stairs.

Except something didn't seem to agree with her plan. The air in the hall chilled, cooling to near freezing, and a shadow parted from its fellows. Blocking her path was a Ringwraith, one of the Nazgûl who had taken Aragorn. Buffy smiled grimly, once you had faced a true vampire, thanks to the First's plan to kill you gruesomely, most Bringer wannabes paled in comparison.

"You can move or you can die," she said frostily, "Either way, I'm coming through."

The wraith drew its Morgul blade, and made to face her. It obviously didn't think her much of a challenge. That was a big mistake, it would reflect later.

With all the flare of one accustomed to arson, Buffy pulled the closest torch off the wall and threw it at the wraith. Its sword clanged uselessly as it clawed at its heavy, black and now flaming robes.

Storming past it, Buffy ran up the steep staircase. Aragorn was close, she could feel him. She quickly located the room on the uppermost floor that he occupied but had to forego her rescue mission in favour of dealing with another of those cursed Nazgûl.

Her blade met his move for move, but he had the advantage of knowing the layout of the tower better than she and he eventually backed her out onto one of the parapets. Buffy, looking down at the dizzying drop, decided that swordplay was way too risky. She didn't want to break her own neck.

And so using the Ringwraith's blade to propel herself up and over him, she landed behind him and grabbing the nearly insubstantial form, she chucked him up and over the parapet, leaving it to scream its chilling shriek as it plummeted.

Racing into the hallway and forcefully pulling the door off its hinges, Buffy stepped into the room where the man she loved was being kept.

As she'd said once before, almost in another lifetime, _nobody_ messed with her boyfriend. Or the man she wanted to be her boyfriend.

That way only meant badness.

For everyone else anyway.

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Aragorn could not believe his eyes when Eliza stepped into the broken doorway, golden hair mussed and cat-like eyes bright with anger. Holding her sword aloft, and dressed for battle, she looked like an Elven queen of old, fair and fell. "Eliza?" he whispered, fearing that his mind was playing tricks on him.

"How ya doing Thorongil?" she answered back, her familiar voice assuring him he was not hallucinating, "As I'm sure you've had enough of sightseeing in Mordor, how about we hightail it back to more friendly territory, what do you say?"

"How did you get here?! I left you back at camp!" he exclaimed, his ribs protesting the loud volume.

She grimaced, "We're gonna talk about that once we're out of here. I've got more than a few words to say to you for that stunt but as I'm basically invading a fortress here, filled with a lot more things than little ol' me, how about we get out of here before the rest of the Nazgûl decide to party?"

She crossed over to him, and helped him up, concern playing across her features when she heard his pained gasp. "I guess it would have been too good to be true if they'd left you alone. But I'm sorry, no matter what condition you're in, we've got to go or else we're dead meat."

She carefully led him down the steps of the tower, which was eerily quiet. Too quiet to her ears.

Her caution was proved to be necessary when she saw why they had gotten to the front courtyard uncontested. Apparently, the Witch-King himself was there to stop them leaving. And she noted the rest of the Nazgûl and more than a fair share of orcs lurking in the shadowed alcoves of the courtyard.

Pressing her dagger into Aragorn's hand, she whispered, "Stay put. I'll deal with the walking dead over there and you'd better be here, and alive, when I come back for you." He looked like he was going to protest but Buffy forestalled him, "You're in no condition to fight anything, let alone a Ringwraith. Just do as I tell you!"

And crossing the stone courtyard, Buffy went to meet the Witch-king.

As they circled each other, sizing each other up, Buffy broke protocol by lunging for him, her increased agility and speed her best asset when compared to the wraith's heavy armour. "Do you fear to face me Wraith?" she taunted, "You should! You should consider me death. More specifically, yours."

"Give it up, girl," the Witch-King hissed, "You can not leave this place alive."

"Says who?" Buffy says, dodging in nimbly to land a strong roundhouse kick on the stunned Nazgûl. Pressing her advantage, she sent him flying down the hill towards Shelob's Lair, pressing him backwards and after ensnaring him in a sticky web, she raced back to Aragorn, whom the other Nazgûl were beginning to head towards.

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They wanted to kill her Aragorn! That was her job! Buffy fumed as she sped towards them. Grabbing Aragorn, she led him down towards the tunnel. In there, the orcs wouldn't follow and they would need all the speed they could muster to get out of the Morgul Vale before the forces of the Dark Lord swallowed them.

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Dragging the flagging ranger behind her, Buffy sped down the Winding Staircase, almost sending her and Aragorn flying down them several times in her haste. Behind them, she could hear the enraged screeches of the Nazgûl when they found their leader and increased her pace even further, uncaring on the toll it was taking on Aragorn.

If they didn't get to safety, there would be no point in caring if Aragorn was in pain or not. He would be dead, along with her.

"C'mon!" she urged Aragorn, trying to get him to move faster. Wasn't he supposed to have the longer legs around here? "You've made me come and drag your 'hero-complex-ing' ass out of here _after_ saving you from the clutches of the Ringwraiths. The least you can do is try and help us get back to Ithilien, and Osgiliath would be even better! Speed it up slowcoach!"

"The Nazgûl will not cross running water," Aragorn said, "The river, the Imlad Morgul, should suffice. From there we can make our way through Ithilien to Osgiliath and from there, cross the river."

Buffy winced as the shrieks grew louder. And closer. "You'd better pray that you're right," she said as they took off once more.

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Barad-dûr.

From the great fortress of Barad-dûr, the Eye of Sauron was moving, looking towards its own borders along the Ephel Dúath. A new power had arisen and defeated one of his highest servants. Where it had come from he knew not. Yet. But he did now that it had come in one of the unlikeliest forms imaginable.

Reports told him that a petite fair-haired woman in Elvish array had stormed Cirith Ungol and had gotten away with a Gondorian Dúnedain prisoner there, leaving his forces humiliated. He cared little for the man of Gondor but this new player on the board intrigued him.

Were it not for her colouring and her gender, he would have thought her the Heir of Isildur. No other line of Men in Middle Earth had any power left in it. But the Dúnedain were dark-haired, grey-eyed and tall. She was not of their ilk.

He knew that she was also not another fool Istar come to work against him. For she was not wizened like they and neither was she come from Valinor.

All those peace-loving Elves and their precious Valar left a.. taint to his eyes but this girl shone with her own power, with darkness as its root.

She could be a great asset to him if he could turn her. A powerful servant indeed. The Witch-King would humble himself by personally offering her the position Sauron desired to have her hold.

And if she refused, then the Nazgûl would have great pleasure in killing her, along with everyone else who dared defy his rule.

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In the Golden Wood of Lothlórien, its Lady, Galadriel sat in contemplation and was very uneasy. Often had she felt the Dark Lord test her defences by pushing his will against her borders, searching for a weakness that he could use his base in Dol Guldur to exploit. The same was felt by Elrond.

Although the power behind his pushes varied, never a day went by that Galadriel did not feel some frisson of awareness that Sauron still watched and waited.

But this day…

This day, she had borne witness to something she never would have expected and which did not bode well for Middle Earth.

Sauron's attention had shifted, completely, to a place elsewhere. Something that had never happened since he'd first pushed against Lórien's borders.

Her foresight warned her that this was important, that Sauron's plans were changing and his forces moving.

Something had happened and she felt in her heart that somehow Buffy was in the middle of it.

And the Elven Lady could only hope that the Slayer survived drawing the Dark Lord's personal attention, however she had done it.

There were those she had seen, both in her mirror and in her mind, that she knew must not die if Middle Earth were to be free from Shadow.

Buffy Summers, or Buffy _Dagnir _(slayer), to use her title, was one of these.

And whatever mischief she had wreaked, she could remain hidden no longer. The Dark Lord knew a new player was now on the game board and either he would try and turn her to black or he would kill her.

She could not let that happen.

Not when her own granddaughter's life also hanged on Buffy's future actions…

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At camp in Ithilien, Buffy and Aragorn stared at each other across a cheery fire. Aragorn had not yet let Buffy tend to his wounds and she knew it was because he would not do so without an explanation for the events surrounding his escape.

As the silence stretched and the tension grew, Buffy took a deep, calming breath and decided to bite the bullet, "So I guess we're due a talk, aren't we?" she said.

Aragorn only stared at her like he could figure out the mystery surrounding her through sight alone.

"Are you not going to answer, _Aragorn_?" she asked and watched as surprise flickered across his face.

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A/N: So? What do you think? Please READ and REVIEW!!! And PLEASE take a look at my QUESTION at the end of this chapter!

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Elvish:

Narvinyë - Quenya for January

Amon Amarth - Mount Doom

Dagnir - Slayer

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Cirith Ungol - Translates as 'Spider's Cleft'. The name was lent not only to the pass but to the fortress that guarded it as well. Cirith Ungol was a fortress unto its own. The Tower of Cirith Ungol, was a stronghold made by the Men of Gondor after the Last Alliance to keep watch on Mordor but Mordor took it over.

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Emyn Arnen - the part of Ithilien in which the Steward of the King dwelled.

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Éomund of Eastfold - Chief Marshal of the Mark. Would go on to be brother-in-law to Théoden King of Rohan and father to Éomer and Éowyn.

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Ephel Dúath - Mountains of Shadow. Also called the Fence of Shadow. The mountain range separating Gondor and Mordor.

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Imlad Morgul - River flowing out of the Morgul Vale.

Morgul Vale - once housed a city of Gondor called Minas Ithil 'Tower of the Moon' but was overrun by Sauron before the Last Alliance and is now called Minas Morgul. It is now a province of Mordor that houses the Ringwraiths that do not hold Dol Guldur in Mirkwood.

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Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

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The Elendilmir/Star of Elendil - an heirloom of the House of Elendil. It was a single white gem (assumed to be a diamond) on a fillet of silver, worn on the brow. The Elendilmir referred to in this chapter is the second one to bear the name. The first being lost with Isildur. The second Elendilmir was made for Valandil, Isildur's youngest and only surviving son, after Isildur and the original Elendilmir, made in Númenor, were lost. The second Elendilmir was born by each of the Chieftains of the Dúnedain, all the way down to Aragorn II.

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Torech Ungol - Shelob's Lair,

The lines "_Some dreadful spirit of evil vigilance abode in them. They knew an enemy. Visible or invisible none could pass unheeded. They would forbid her entry, or her escape."_ come from the Lord of the Rings, chapter: the Tower of Cirith Ungol.

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QUESTION: I know it's not coming up yet, but I'm planning out future chapters and need to know the answer to this. Do you want _ARWEN _or _GLORFINDEL _to find Aragorn and the Hobbits and bring them to Rivendell. I can work it either way so this will be reviewer's choice.


	11. Callings

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's Notes: okay, I've posted two chapters at once in this go as it was originally one chapter but got too big for comfortable reading so I split it in two, both being posted at the same time for readers enjoyment. Enjoy! Asha D is being merciful for once. :)

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The vote:

I think I started a war! The Glorfindel vs. Arwen debate is obviously a minefield. But the votes have been counted and so one character is set to meet the Hobbits and Aragorn and get them across the Bruinen.

And the results of the vote (drum roll please): the winner is Glorfindel! By an overwhelming 38 votes to 4!

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Review responses:

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Allen Pitt - Aragorn going to Harad? He will visit there but so far I've planned no chapters that are set there.

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Anna - Sauron? Disappointed wouldn't be the word I'd use. More like 'murderous' in my opinion. Yes, the twins will have much mocking material. And good ideas on the Hobbit/ranger pick-up. As for Buffy, wait and see. Thanks for the feedback!

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Anon - Yes, she did call him by his real name but as she was yelling at the time, he didn't really notice, also she's now glaring at him, and very obviously knows what she's talking about. No slip of the tongue here.

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Anonymous - True. Very true.

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Arkee - You're the first person who told me _not _to update so quickly! The Elrond victory dance thing is too funny! As for Sauron trying to recruit Buffy, that's a few chapters away. And I believe Buffy already contested her claim upon Glorfindel's 'Balrog Slayer' title. Thanks for the review! I hope you're not comatose!

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Athene Saile - hmmm, you might have an idea there… As for love and hate, comradeship and one-man-up-manship can also be thrown in there.

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Batgirl Beyond - You flatter me really!

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Boo - Yes, Buffy could have borne his weight. But he's about a foot taller than her and a lot wider which would mean his legs and arms would be tripping her up. So urging him to go faster was really the only option besides dragging him at slayer speed, which would have meant big pain for Aragorn.

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BuffyandDracoLover - I'm not gonna skip it out to the War of the Ring. That would be too rushed for my tastes. And as it's 2980, and the War of the Ring starts in 3018. It'll be about 38 years but don't worry, I'm not gonna write a chapter for all of that! I will be skipping ahead in years here and there, just not in one big great forty year leap.

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ChibiChibi - It is thirty-eight years from this chapter to the War of the Ring. As for the ageing, Aragorn is the Heir of Isildur, a Númenórean Lord, and they age way slower and live longer than other men. In Númenor, the coming of age for a boy was ninety! In the books, Aragorn lives to be 210 years old, so at the War of the Ring, he was a sprightly 88/89, but with all the vigour of a man fifty to sixty years younger. As for Buffy, her ageing will be explained but for the moment, she still looks twenty-two. And yes, I've seen 'A Knight's Tale' but I haven't taken my threats from it!

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Claudia - you really want the Hobbits to suffer, don't you?

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deFox - How can I be original if I copy the books? (laughs) But yeah, I get your point. Thanks for the review! And I was a bit shaky on the whole 'warrior-princess' thing myself.

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DragonStar - He's not totally stupid. He's a man, and in my experience, (especially with my darling, note my sarcasm, brother) Men are Stupid at times. Note the capital S.

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Dreamer Child - Two reviews! Thanks! Yes, Gandalf will have his role, it's coming up in about two chapters. And yes, this story is scheduled to go all the way to the RotK. But my beta and I have been thinking about sequels so don't worry! Besides, by the time this is finished I'll have to cut off there anyway just so the number of chapters don't start spiralling out of control. At last count, there was thirty-seven but as I plan them out in detail and write them, the chapters seem to have a will of their own and keep running away on me into these massive chapters that have to be cut in half to keep them at a reasonable length! And you're not the first person to tell me to get them together soon, but I promise, in the next chapter there will be plenty of angst action. (grins evilly and rubs hands together in glee) And yes, Buffy and Gimli camaraderie will be funny. Those short people with a love for axes must stick together! And Aragorn will realise how great Buffy is. Eventually. Someone will give him a good kick in the arse to get him moving and then we'll see how things go. But complications _will_ arise in the next chapter. Watch that space… And she's called him Aragorn only once before, in the heat of a fight so this is the first time she's intentionally called him by his birth name. And yes, now he's wondering how she knows and how much she knows!

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Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell - Mae govannen! Awww, thanks! And the gem of Isildur was the Star of Elendil too, just the original version. Tolkien said that when Aragorn emptied Orthanc, he found the original Elendilmir there, obviously having been kept by Saruman. The one Aragorn was chasing in the last chapter, was the copy made for Isildur's youngest son, Valandil and it was silver instead of mithril. (god, I sound like a stuffy bore so just ignore that last part if you want!) And thanks for the compliments! Lady Dagnir? Complicated? Understatement of the century. Sauron's first move is in this chapter so I won't say any more about that. And given thought to your questions? Thanks to those, you will get to find out what happened 'deep in the bowls of Khazad-dûm to frighten Aragorn so'. The Aragorn and Legolas question is also answered in this part as well. Happy reading! Námarië!

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Fallenadieu - This chapter.

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Haley - thanks! Interesting? Definitely! Yeah Balrog Boy and the Slayer… along with Aragorn and a bunch of fretting, angry, cold, scared and hungry Hobbits. What a trip that would be? Can anyone say 'migraine'?

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Herald-Mage Brianna - yes, Aragorn's family, not gonna take well to the whole visiting Mordor thing.

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hey hey hey!!!! - the movies and books are going to be mixed together.

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immortalwizardpirateelf-fan - Your suggestion is duly noted! :) Thanks for reviewing!

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Imp17 - keep Aragorn and Arwen apart? Just you wait for the next chapter!

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Jania - of course he'd remember her! Ego-bashing is always remembered!

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JeanB - Two reviews? Thanks! Most of Aragorn's possessions are currently orc fodder. It's about thirty-eight years until the Fellowship is formed, which works out at about five or six chapters in my story. The Buffy ageing dilemma was sorted out somehow and is explained further in this chapter, but ten years to a Númenórean was very little. They used to live to be about two hundred at least so it took quite a while for them to show any signs of ageing. That's kind of what I'm leaning towards for Buffy rather than Elvish immortal, but Galadriel and Arwen will explain it better than I could. And a ninety year old Dúnedain by the name of Aragorn looks pretty hot in the movies. And about your list of eligible bachelors, it was interesting reading!

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Jedi Buttercup - The entrance may have been Sue-ish but there's only so many ways one can be dumped into a different dimension! (at least that I can think of) but the zillion originality points you gave me were cool. And by the way, in LotR, Book 6, Chapter I, is called 'The Tower of Cirith Ungol'. The name was lent not only to the pass but to the fortress that guarded it as well. Minas Morgul 'Tower of Sorcery', formerly Minas Ithil 'Tower of the Moon', was situated in the Morgul Vale, which is a bit away from Cirith Ungol. The Nine did reside there but it was a separate city. Cirith Ungol was a fortress unto its own. The Tower of Cirith Ungol, was a stronghold made by the Men of Gondor after the Last Alliance to keep watch on Mordor but Mordor took it back over.

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Jenn - Glorfindel was indeed robbed and we the movie viewers were denied another hottie to look at.

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Jennzabell - no, he'll have seen, and been in the middle of, Slayer vs. Balrog Boy interaction. (chuckles) 'Buffy flavoured can of whoop-ass'. That's a great line. Yes, Buffy's spilling the beans, along with her anger. And no, poor Buffy doesn't know much about the Buffy-dar yet. Buffy has very little idea on it at the moment, and could she break it, wait and see…. Thanks for all your wonderful compliments! :)

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Jess S1 - thanks for reviewing! Aragorn won't be around for the Witch-King's return visit. Arwen thing is next chapter so the suspense is nearly over. And Legolas meets Buffy in this chapter! The heirloom thing is explained in this chapter as well.

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Kurt - good idea but I think Fireball would be dead from old age by that point.

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Lady of the Wood - (smiles) Flirting? Read on and see… And there's about five/six chapters left until the Fellowship starts.

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Lunawolf - (nods sagely) It's more than slightly frustrating for Buffy too. Hope you enjoyed your holiday.

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Mari - The Lady of the Wood's warning is coming up, as for what Buffy will tell Aragorn, read on and see.

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Martinelli88 - thanks for the flattery!

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Marybeth - It seems many people didn't like the Arwen for Glorfindel substitution.

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me - Sorry, but there will be no Spike in this fic. Ever.

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Mj - confrontation hmmm? Are you psychic? And no, Buffy is _not_ strong enough to get in and out of Mordor without a scratch. However she _is_ quite capable of being blind to some of the more finer nuances of Evil Plans. The Witch-King is a _lot_ smarter and tougher than she gave him credit for. Read on to find out Buffy's BIG mistake when dealing with the Witch-King.

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Nefertare - True, but as Arwen was Elrond's daughter, it can be assumed that she could have made the river rage, sans horses of course. As for Buffy being there, my lips are sealed.

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Pam - Jack Sparrow is absolutely brilliant! A genius portrayal by Johnny Depp and I can't wait for the sequel! :) Friends in high places? Yeah, I suppose that's true and smart guess on the Rohirrim. And your comments left me super hyper! Thanks! P.S - the Dark Lord's a sneaky little snake… watch this space….

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Restive Nature - Yeah, Buffy's going to have a few words about Women's Lib to our unnecessarily chivalrous Aragorn. And the Elven blade with its enchantments, was what Shelob feared in the book so here she is fearing it in my story too. Good on you to pick up on that. Issues about the Nazgûl? Perhaps Buffy won too easily? Not so, read on and found out… (cackles madly)

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Samarakerina - I hope you're ok. Bad news sucks. Glad I could help! :) Sauron's interest in our favourite slayer will hopefully be a BIG surprise. 'The Talk' is in this chapter so Aragorn will take his punishment like a man. So he hopes.

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Shadow Master - (blushes madly, dabs at eyes with handkerchief) Awww, thanks! And thanks for all the ideas on the Hobbit and ranger pick-up. The Buffy idea is an interesting one.

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ShawThang -the Witch-King is more devious than he appears… (cackles madly) Who says Buffy won that fight? Oooh, the triangle/square will be all systems go in the next chapter. Yes, Arwen/Legolas is a pairing with Legolas having the burden on unrequited love while Arwen moons over Aragorn.

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Shimmyontherooftops - The Dreaded Return to School is looming and striking fear in the hearts of students and teachers alike. I _hate_ school! And it's always nice to know you're not a stalker! :)

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Star - Nah, hanging around Mordor wouldn't have been very fun for our duo. Yes, plenty of Buffy banter opportunities, with her criticising everything from his outfit to his horse. Thanks for the comments! :)

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And major thanks to:

Amy (thanks! :D) _Anyanka of the Ocean, Cataclysmic ,cotytto, Delphine Pryde, Dina, Freya Elise Raine, gaul1, gregdoreza, lilyCAT, Little Red Rabbit, Night-Owl123, pans, RedsLover03, Tkiwi, Wild320, Yllyana,_

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And MAJOR THANKS to my beta: Iceflame55!

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CHAPTER ELEVEN: CALLINGS

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Ithilien, 2980 TA, Narvinyë (January).

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As the silence stretched and the tension grew, Buffy took a deep, calming breath and decided to bite the bullet, "So I guess we're due a talk, aren't we?" she said.

Aragorn only stared at her like he could figure out the mystery surrounding her through sight alone.

"Are you not going to answer, _Aragorn_?" she asked and watched as surprise flickered across his face.

"Twice now you have called me by that name," he replied calmly, "Am I supposed to answer to a name not my own?"

"Don't give me that," Buffy said silkily, she was not going to let him wriggle out of this one, "I know your name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, directly descended from Isildur. You're the current Lord of the Dúnedain, foster son of Elrond of Rivendell who called you Estel, and one major pain in my ass. Have I forgotten anything?"

Aragorn's face was truly a picture and Buffy _really_ wished cameras had been invented in Middle Earth. This definitely would have been one for the photo album! "Y-you what?!" Aragorn managed to exclaim. "How do you know this?" he asked, knowing that if she knew that much there was no point in denying it.

"A flock of birdies told me," Buffy said cryptically, "Let's just say that I know craziness runs in your family, both mortal and immortal branches."

He eyed her carefully, weighing her up with his gaze, "Need I ask why? I thought they had more concern for my continued life than to tell a stranger."

"I guard your back," Buffy said equably, "Like I said before, but you didn't seem to be listening. Too busy plotting how to get rid of me, hmmm?"

Aragorn held back a wince at her biting tone, "Regarding that…" he began but Buffy stopped him from going further.

"Not now," she said, "We can talk about that later once we've got the introductions out of the way. And believe me, ranger boy, I've got _plenty_ to say to you on that little matter. But for now, we need to get our, by now, not so secret identities out of the way. Starting with you, seeing as I know more about you than you do about me, including embarrassing childhood incidents."

"How can I trust you?" Aragorn said suspiciously, "You could have planned to gain my trust and then turn me over to the Dark Lord when it suits you."

"If I was working for Sauron, you neurotic idiot, I would have left you to enjoy the hospitality of the Witch-King."

He seemed bemused by that, so Buffy ploughed on, "Now that we've got that out of the way, this game we're gonna play is very simple. You spill your true identity and then I spill mine. And after that, we spend the next half an hour threatening each other not to reveal the other's secrets under pain of a messy death. Got it?"

He nodded, so Buffy said brightly, "Great! 'Cos you're first one up."

"I think that is hardly fair when I do not know anything about you," he said.

"Ahh, but you'll get to hear all the information you want, along with a good portion you didn't want, after you're done. So, c'mon, let's hear it."

"I am the Heir of Isildur," Aragorn began, "Chieftain of the Dúnedain. I was raised by the Elves, and I have spent the last few decades learning the ways of Men."

"Well, I knew all that!" Buffy said, "One of the advantages of staying in Rivendell was hearing about all of your misadventures, courtesy of the twins."

"You stayed in Rivendell? And adar {father} never told me?" Aragorn said somewhat annoyed, thinking of the letter he had wrote and the reply received.

"Yeah, but we're not talking about me here, remember?" Buffy pointed out, "You're only telling me what I already know."

"You will hear nothing else until I have heard your story." Aragorn said stubbornly, folding his arms across his chest, and wincing as they jostled his bruised ribcage.

"Fine," Buffy said, "You can dish the dirt later but do you care to enlighten me on why you felt the need to visit Mordor, land of all evil?"

"I went to recover an heirloom of my house," Aragorn answered after a moment's silence, "And because my heart urged me to go."

"You must be the only guy I know, besides one, that hankers after pain." Buffy said bemusedly, "You didn't think a vacation in Mordor might not have been the best idea?"

"I have spent my adult life being told what I must do if I wish to reclaim the Kingship. I chose exile but I still must know the enemy I work against if I am to be any way effective at helping to bring him down. And there was something I had to reclaim ere it was lost to Mordor."

Buffy flopped onto her back, lazily staring into the fire as she listened to the ranger speak, "Here's a hint," she said helpfully, "Next time you feel the urge to sneak around your enemy's fortress, don't get caught. I'm not bailing you out for the rest of our existence you know. You'll give me wrinkles, and that furrowy-brow thing that Elrond does so well."

"He raised the twins," Aragorn said, amused at her description of his foster father.

"Too true," she agreed, "Those two are enough to give anybody wrinkles! So, was it worth it? Did you find what you were looking for?"

Aragorn shook his head, "I never recovered the Elendilmir," he said sorrowfully. "'Twas only part of the reason I came to this forsaken land but I was not able to recover it and so it shall join the treasuries of Mordor."

"What is the Elendilmir? You know, besides an heirloom thingy." Buffy asked curiously, wondering what trinket could be so important that he'd trek into Mordor for it.

"A _priceless _heirloom of my house," Aragorn answered, annoyed at Buffy's blasé attitude, "A silver coronet passed down through nearly forty generations of Chieftains."

Buffy's expression changed, causing Aragorn to look at her curiously. Buffy rooted in her pack for a moment, and then held something aloft, "You mean this pretty little bauble?" Buffy asked innocently. "I thought it had that kind of 'Tiffany's' look about it so I picked it up. It's so hard to find good diamonds here when you're a person like me."

Aragorn snatched it out of her hands, confirming that, yes, this was the Elendilmir. "How in Eru's name did you get this?" he demanded.

"One of those grubby little orcs was trying it on for size when I was on my little 'rescue you' jaunt. I killed it and took the pretty thing as a keepsake," Buffy said, nose wrinkling in disgust at the memory of the orc playing dress-up, "If you're planning on wearing it, ever, I would recommend sterilising it or you'll probably get lice. Or fleas. Talk about yuck!"

"You are a strange woman, Eliza. But I would know your true name and purpose ere I talk with you more," Aragorn said and Buffy gulped.

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"Right, I guess it's my turn then," Buffy said uncomfortably. "Well, to put it bluntly, I'm a Vampire Slayer."

She held up a hand to forestall the barrage of questions Aragorn looked to be wanting to throw at her, "Stay quiet while I explain _my_ heritage, 'k? It's hard enough as it is without you butting in every two minutes."

His curiosity more than a little piqued, he sullenly agreed.

"Ok, my real name is Buffy Summers. Where I come from we have last names too," she said, trying to explain what Galadriel, Elrond, and Gil-galad had all instinctively understood, "If you're still talking to me after this, you can call me Buffy."

"As for where I come from… that's a little trickier so if you could just bear with me here?" she said, "I'm not from this world originally. I wasn't born in Middle Earth, and no I'm not like an Istari before you ask. If you don't believe me or want a more detailed explanation, ask your father. I'm not sitting here for the whole day trying to explain this to you. Now, as to what I am…"

She took a shaky breath, hoping that Aragorn didn't decide to hate her for being quite a bit more than human, "As I said a minute ago, I'm a Vampire Slayer. And that's not in reference to the lovely winged monsters Morgoth had in the First Age. Where I come from, vampires are demons that feed on peoples' blood. They are ruthless, soulless walking dead monsters who feed off the living. They don't breathe, their heart doesn't beat, but sunlight burns them. Now, these demons are only one breed amongst many, and because they felt like having us humans for dinner, the Powers, um, I mean the Valar-like people, decided to even the score just a teensy weensy little bit."

Aragorn looked at her somewhat blankly and she idly wondered was he labelling her a basket case, "Basically, they created a warrior from someone demons wouldn't generally have suspected; a girl. The story goes like this; into each generation the Slayer is born. One girl in all the world, a Chosen One. One with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires and to stop the spread of evil. When one dies, another is called to take her place, with the Slayer powers transferring to a new slayer the second the previous one dies. I am a Vampire Slayer."

Uncomfortable with the silence and with the taken aback expression Aragorn was currently wearing, Buffy soldiered on, feeling cold all of a sudden, I was called when I was fifteen. I've been a slayer ever since, fighting demons and evil. When I'd been a slayer for eight years, a new evil came to town, one that I couldn't stop on my own. The Valar offered me a deal; they'd deal with the demon if I came here and protected you. I had no choice but to agree. Literally. I spent some time in Lórien and Rivendell, training with the Elves and learning how this kooky world worked. And then I went to Gondor. After that, you know pretty much what I've done since then."

"What… powers does a slayer have?" Aragorn asked after a pregnant silence.

"Super-strength, rapid healing, more stamina, enhanced senses and agility, the ability to detect evil, instinctive skill with weapons of all types, and some type of foresight. And oh yeah, it takes quite a bit to kill one of us." Buffy said, rattling them off. "I can beat pretty much every human around, including you. Though to assuage your undoubtedly bruised ego, you're the best non-slayer human fighter that I've seen."

Aragorn stared at her for a long time, processing everything she had said, before speaking, "That would explain a lot of things," he said at last, "And I thought my heritage was a burden. Yours must weigh on you like a mountain."

"Not so much since I came to Middle Earth," Buffy said evenly, "Not too many demons here and a hell of a lot more armies. Though you, buddy, have been one major pain in my ass. So far I've had to rescue you from Corsairs, your own pride and Mordor. Not to mention, stop your assassination. Twice. You've been one annoying charge to keep track of, Aragorn."

His face fell for some reason, taking on the look of a wounded deer and Buffy's stomach clenched, what had she done now? Or was he hurt so badly that he couldn't hide it anymore?

"So you befriended me because it was your duty," Aragorn said, surprised at how much it hurt.

Buffy's eyes widened and she hurried to reassure him, "NO! By the Valar, no! That's not it at all! I really like you, even if you are kinda crazy and all skulky. I didn't do it because I had to. I did it because I wanted to. Now, could you please let me look at your wounds before you fall down?"

He nodded his assent, his ribs feeling like they were on fire even as a strange sort of elation filled him at hearing Buffy's words of reassurance. He did not want to analyse exactly why he would have been so hurt if she had only been a friend to him because she had been forced to do so.

He yelped when he felt her hands probe the tender, purple and blue skin of his back, "Ai! Your hands are like ice!" he exclaimed, as the freezing hands probed and prodded his wounds.

"Sorry," Buffy said without pausing in her ministrations, "Slayers don't get that nifty little resistance to cold and heat thing that the Elves get."

After a few minutes of repetitive wincing by Aragorn, Buffy gave her diagnosis, "Well, you've got two cracked ribs, enough bruising to try out for a clown position, a few gashes and grazes. All in all, you got off lucky. Though you're going to be uncomfortable for the next few days."

"I think we should get some sleep," Aragorn said, "I need some time to think on where I stand so I will take first watch."

Buffy watched him carefully, trying to figure out what was up, but then shrugged, "As long as you remember to wake me up. I only just saved your suicidal ass. The last thing I need is you passing out from exhaustion." She stifled a yawn, "Though I have to admit, bed sounds fun. G'night!" she mumbled as she lay down and pulled her blanket halfway over her head.

Seated by the fire, the light from the flames casting shadows on his features, Aragorn watched her as though her form held the answers to the universe.

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Ithil had risen fully when Aragorn broke from his reverie (he had been thinking about the day's revelations of course), and noticed that all was not well with Eliza. No, it was Buffy now, he reminded himself.

Buried under the covers of her bedroll, she was shivering from a non-existent chill and mumbling in a restless sleep. Walking over to her, he gently shook her shoulder but she did not stir in the slightest.

His hand brushed her skin and he flinched back in surprise. He had teased her about having cold hands earlier but now, touching her skin was like touching ice.

Worried now, he again tried to wake her but even the hardiest shakes or a light slap across her cheek were not enough to rouse her from her foul slumber.

He felt his chest tighten with panic when her head lolled limply against his arm. Where was the vivacious, lively woman of a few hours ago? Forcing himself to think as a healer instead of an anxious friend, he tried to think if she could have caught a chill so fast. But had not she herself mentioned that she was a rapid healer?

With an abrupt snap, it came to him. This woman had barged into Mordor to rescue him, with nary a thank you from him. She had been pitted against wraiths and orcs and won. She had even challenged the Witch-King himself. Surely she could not have passed through all that unscathed?

Cursing himself for not thinking to see if she had any wounds that needed tending, he hurried to check to see if there were any open wounds. Orcs and wraiths were notorious for coating their weapons with poison. Even the smallest scrape could be fatal if left untended when orc poison was festering within.

Ignoring his small sense of embarrassment at searching her in such a manner, he rapidly checked her over and soon he found what he had expected.

There on the soft flesh of her upper arm, there lay a shallow gash. He pressed it cautiously and black blood oozed from it. Buffy stirred at the pain of the poison where she had not done so for him, "Aragorn?" she murmured sleepily, "What ya doin'?"

"Buffy, did any of the Ringwraiths land a strike on you? Answer me!" Aragorn asked anxiously, noting the blurred hazel eyes of his companion.

Buffy looked at him blearily but at his urgent tone, answered, "Nah, he didn't stop me. Got past him." she muttered, cuddling into his furnace like warmth.

"Of course the Witch-King did not bar your path!" Aragorn exclaimed, oblivious to the fact that she was too sleepy to care if he was mad, "They'll track you through your wound! A Morgul blade! I have not the skill to heal this!"

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Cirith Ungol. 2980, TA. Buffy's rescue mission. Scene: Buffy vs. the Witch-King.

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And crossing the stone courtyard, Buffy went to meet the Witch-king.

The feared Witch-King quickly sized up this new rival. As she lunged at him first, he felt like mocking her. The youth were always so impetuous, and this new woman seemed to think him little challenge.

She was fast, quick and deadly, but he would die by no man's hand. Only the death of his Lord would allow that, and this little fair-haired sprite, doubtless the latest pathetic offering from the increasingly desperate Elves. Her pride would cost her dearly.

"Do you fear to face me Wraith?" she taunted him, her flushed face stony, "You should! You should consider me death. More specifically, yours."

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"Give it up, girl," the Witch-King hissed, he would teach her who she mocked. "You can not leave this place alive." Or at least, not living. Dying would do just fine. The chase was always the best part of the hunt. Especially with such interesting prey.

"Says who?" she answered, landing a strong kick on him. He smiled beneath his heavy hood. That's it, come on, come closer little girl, he silently urged. And to his malicious delight, she did.

Deliberately looking off balance, he wordlessly coaxed her to press her advantage and they went tumbling down the hill to Torech Ungol (Shelob's Lair). As they went flying towards Shelob's Lair, he stealthily moved his Morgul blade, his most prized weapon, into position and while the foolish mortal was busy keeping them on track, he sliced open a cut in her arm.

Even as the sticky webs she believed would hold him snagged him momentarily, as if Shelob frightened one who could not die, he laughed, a cold, high, mocking laugh.

The girl was his now.

She would be a prize for his Lord indeed….

A foolish little girl if she thought she would be the one to kill him after so many millennia….

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After all the Witch-King didn't need to defend against Buffy when he'd already landed a hit on her. All it took was one scratch of a Morgul blade…

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Aragorn felt despair hit him abruptly. The only one who could possibly save her was his father, too far away to help them now. To have the poison effect her so fast, chances were she would be dead or a wraith by morning. How could he expect her to fight against this magic she would not understand if she was truly not of Middle Earth?

Noting that she had fallen back into slumber, he pressed a soft kiss to her head. She would die or have a fate worse than death because she had come after him. His eyes felt suspiciously wet but he blinked the tears away. He had thought he had kept her safe, yet it seemed that she had still suffered for his folly.

Her revelation from earlier explained much and fuelled even more questions. Whatever lay in her past, he could tell it had been painful and he knew better than to pry. She would tell him in time, if she wished. Now she would not live to do so.

He cared not about what she was, only that he could trust her with his secret as he hoped she had been able to trust him with hers. He had been denying it to himself so often of late, that it hit him now with all the force of a blunt club to the stomach. He cared for her. 'Twas why he felt such sorrow that so bright a life would die because of him.

He couldn't even help her as his healing supplies were lost to the orcs.

Uncaring for decorum, he clutched her to him, and held her tightly to him throughout the night.

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Having fallen into a light doze, Aragorn jerked awake when he felt Buffy shift against him. Remembering his discovery of the night before, he checked her condition. He felt her forehead, once, twice and then three times, unable to believe this was happening.

Her forehead was slightly cool but nothing like the icy feeling of last night. Checking again, he found that she had transformed from being trapped in the coldness of one passing over into the shadow world into one who, while slightly cold, was no more near to death than he was.

Unable to believe this turn of events, he pulled back the torn cloth covering the gash and to his amazement found that it had scabbed over. Poking at it in shock, he saw that red blood welled instead of black. How was this possible? He thought staring at her in wonder. Even an Elf would not have been able to throw off a Morgul wound overnight! And she had had no healing herbs of any sort!

He thought back to her words of the day before, 'it takes quite a bit to kill one of us.' Could it be that being what she was had saved her?

There could be no doubt about it, Buffy was an extraordinary woman but he would have to wait for her to wake ere he could interrogate her about how she got this way and how she had once more done the impossible.

He knew not how long they lay there, perhaps one or two hours, ere she moved at all. And what she did was something that would bother Aragorn for years to come.

Snuggling closer to his warmth as a brisk breeze blew through their camp, carrying away the ashes of the cheery fire from the night before, she cuddled herself against him. To his horror, he found that however his mind screamed about propriety and that he was only sharing body heat to keep her warm after her ordeal, his body quite liked having a beautiful woman curled up against him.

Trying to will away his lust, he stiffened as Buffy shifted again, her breath ghosting past his ear. Still asleep, she cuddled closer and kissed him in her slumber, inducing feelings of both horror and delight.

Her mouth was hot and sweet, and lusciously soft against his. And almost against his will if his common sense screaming 'stop!' was any indication, he responded, slipping his tongue into her warm mouth.

A few minutes later, when she rolled over in her illness-heavy sleep, he was shocked and horrified with himself. Gently pulling away, he mentally berated himself. She trusted him to guard her sleep when they had set the watches and now he had taken shameless advantage of her in her repose!

He was not the sort of man that preyed on women and he now felt disgusted with himself. How could he betray her in such a manner?

And he was the man Elrond said could be King? He thought darkly. Isildur's weakness flowed through his veins. He could feel its taint. If the High King of Gondor when the Dúnedain had not yet waned, could fall for lust of power, why should it surprise him that he would fall victim to his own lust? And dishonoured a close friend by doing so.

That was it, he decided, he could not face her for much longer. First chance he got, they would separate. He did not know how he was going to look her in the eye. Trust in the strength of Men, Gandalf would always say to him.

Bitterly, he disagreed. What strength was there left in Men?

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And so it was, that when it came time to part ways for a while, Buffy on Fireball and Aragorn on foot, that they agreed to meet again. Aragorn was to go to Rivendell to see his family and he would bring a letter from Buffy to them. Of course, he didn't know that he was effectively handing over to his foster father and brothers, a detailed account of all his near death hi-jinks and subsequent wounds.

Buffy was to go to Lothlórien, to visit Galadriel and obtain the answers to a few questions she had been wanting answers to for the last few years.

In truth, both were grateful for the time apart. For some reason Buffy couldn't fathom, their relationship had been very stiff and stilted during this last stint of travelling from Ithilien and a break would do them both some good.

And so they arranged to meet in Bree in a few months time, in Viressë (April)…

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On the road to Lothlórien. 2980, TA, late Narvinyë (January).

The Witch-King had not been idle since his poison failed to bring his foe down. He had followed her and the ragged Dúnadan 'til they had taken different paths. The girl seemed to be heading for that accursed wood, probably to plot with the Elf-Witch.

With him rode the Mouth of Sauron and two more of his fellow wraiths. For the Mouth himself to ride with them spoke of the importance of this mission. Whatever the significance of this girl was, he did not yet know but he knew his master wanted her to either join him or be killed for defying him.

He personally hoped she would refuse. He had been so sure that he could track her through his poison but this girl had either encountered an Elvish healer of great skill or had the most uncanny look he had seen in this age. Whatever had happened, he had been left to look a fool.

As the Mouth of Sauron broke away from them to take shelter in a deserted cave, to prepare for the arrival of their prey, the Witch-King led his fellows out on the path to Lothlórien.

Doubtless the Elf-Witch would sense them and send her cursed Elves out but by then it would be too late.

The wraiths would not engage the woman they hunted. They knew better than that now after the debacle in Cirith Ungol.

He studied the drug filled darts they all carried with them.

He had underestimated her before.

He would not do so again.

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They struck under the cover of nightfall and Buffy, tired from many days hard riding, did not sense them until it was too late.

There were three of them and while she was skilled, she was unable to avoid the dart that she did not see coming.

The drug inside was swift-acting and even though Buffy's slayer constitution tried to resist, she eventually succumbed to the blackness that took her.

Having hauled her up on his dark mount, the Witch-King allowed himself a triumphant sneer. Whatever power this girl possessed that had attracted his Lord like honey drew flies, she was still mortal flesh and blood.

She had the same weaknesses as the rest of her race and though she had bested him once, he had evened the score.

He truly did hope she refused his Lord's most generous offer.

He would enjoy making her scream…

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A/N: So? Opinions please! Please READ and REVIEW!!!! Please take a look at the **QUESTION **AT THE END! Please!

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Elvish:

Narvinyë - Quenya for January

Adar - father

Viressë - Quenya for April

Dúnadan - Man of the West

Dúnedain - Men of the West

Imladris - Rivendell

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Cirith Ungol - Translates as 'Spider's Cleft'. The name was lent not only to the pass but to the fortress that guarded it as well. Cirith Ungol was a fortress unto its own. The Tower of Cirith Ungol, was a stronghold made by the Men of Gondor after the Last Alliance to keep watch on Mordor but Mordor took it over.

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Gil-galad - Last High King of the Noldor. King of Lindon. Died during the final battle of the Last Alliance.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

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The Elendilmir/Star of Elendil - an heirloom of the House of Elendil. It was a single white gem (assumed to be a diamond) on a fillet of silver, worn on the brow. The Elendilmir referred to in this chapter is the second one to bear the name. The first being lost with Isildur. The second Elendilmir was made for Valandil, Isildur's youngest and only surviving son, after Isildur and the original Elendilmir, made in Númenor, were lost. The second Elendilmir was born by each of the Chieftains of the Dúnedain, all the way down to Aragorn II.

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Torech Ungol - Shelob's Lair,

Another **_QUESTION: _**since you darling reviewers were so vocal about Glorfindel and Arwen, I decided to give you another chance to rewrite history. The Choice is does _Boromir **LIVE **_or **_DIE_? **With Buffy's help he could be saved, and on the other hand it could make his death more hasty. What's it to be?

And if the answer is **_LIVE_**, what should happen to **_FARAMIR_**?


	12. The Counsel of Galadriel

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's Notes: The second chapter posted for your enjoyment. Please Review! And read **QUESTION **at end!

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CHAPTER TWELVE: THE COUNSEL OF GALADRIEL

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When Buffy woke next, she was tied and bound in some sort of cave. And a man, hooded and cloaked in black, stood in front of her.

"You are awake," he said with an accent she couldn't place, "Good. We have much to discuss."

"I sincerely hope that that discussion involves me suggesting ways to beat you to a bloody pulp." Buffy quipped, eyeing the wraiths that guarded the entrance to the cave.

"I think not," the man said, "I am the Mouth of Sauron." he said arrogantly.

Buffy had of course heard of him after her time in Gondor, but she thought winding him up would be fun. "Cool! Does he have an Ear of Sauron too? Or perhaps a nose?"

"Do not mock my Lord," he hissed, "Or you will find that my hospitality will wane swiftly."

"I never thought the bad guys were into the hospitality business. Usually, it's the 'you threaten me' business, and then I threaten you back, we banter a bit and then I escape after beating you up."

"Silence your insolence girl, or your stay here will be most uncomfortable," The Witch-King hissed, emerging from the shadows behind her.

The Mouth of Sauron decided to intervene in their little staring contest, "My Lord Sauron has an offer to put to you."

"Then let's hear it," Buffy drawled, "I'd like to get this over with."

"He wishes for you to join him. He will give you a high rank and much privilege in return for your loyalty. If you refuse my Lord's offer, you die."

"Wow! What a choice!" Buffy said sarcastically, "But I think I have to say… no!"

She had been working over her bonds for the last few minutes and easily snapped the rope binding her hands. Flipping to her feet, she kicked him in the face and deciding not to stick around and repeat her previous mistake with the wraiths, she ran for it.

From behind her she could hear the Mouth of Sauron's outraged howl as his nose gushed blood, "After her!"

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They searched long into the night for her but to no avail and at last, the Witch-King turned to the Mouth of Sauron in annoyance. "The sun will rise in an hour and we have yet to find a trace of her. What do wish for us to do?"

"Do not take that tone with me wraith," the man hissed, "I rank above you."

"You are the one responsible for this bungling mess," the Witch-King retorted derisively, "You have lost our Master's prize and let her give you a broken nose. I hardly think that constitutes a resounding success."

"Be quiet you fool," the man snarled, reaching into his robes and pulling out a sealed jar, "It matters little for the moment. She will surface again eventually and my Lord's forces shall be waiting for her. But for now, this will suffice to sate our Lord's curiosity."

"What is it?" the Witch-King asked, curious despite himself.

"It is that which flows in her veins," the Mouth of Sauron said, eyeing the crimson liquid, "My Lord shall be most pleased. He has great plans for this…."

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Ithilien, on the road to Osgiliath. 2980, TA. Narvinyë (January). {Flashback}

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Boy, that argument had been HUGE.

"Now, ranger, let's settle this small matter of you drugging me." Buffy said dangerously.

Aragorn held his ground, "I was perfectly right not to want you to come!" he said, "Even as it was, you still were poisoned by a Morgul blade."

"It gave me a bad case of the chills, enough sedative to make the sleeping pill industry go bankrupt and a nasty headache the next day. Oh yes, it was horribly life-threatening! Note my sarcasm here." Buffy drawled.

"You should have stayed with your company!" Aragorn insisted stubbornly.

"I resigned. And if I had stayed put, you would have been orc-bait for the Dark Lord. Somehow I didn't really see you working hard to get out of there."

"Not everyone has special abilities granted by the Valar to aid them in such folly!"

"But I do," Buffy said in a sing-song voice, "Which means I can cover my own ass as well as yours. I'm not some little damsel in distress that needs a man's, or anybody's, protection."

"Was it so wrong to be concerned about your safety?!"

"When that person is a Vampire Slayer, yes!" Buffy said just as stubbornly, "I am perfectly able to take care of myself."

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"You are not invincible Buffy," Aragorn pointed out, "You may be strong but you cannot defeat everything. No one can."

"Never said that I could. I just said that I'm a helluva lot better at avoiding death than you are Mr 'let's see how I can get killed today'."

"I am a Ranger of the North. I learned the arts of war under the Elves of Imladris {Rivendell}. I am not a child to be coddled!" he said angrily.

"And neither am I!" Buffy exclaimed right back, "I have just as much right to be treated like I can handle myself. If you don't, I'm gonna treat you like a baby still in swaddling cloths! Got it?"

"What leads you to think you will be there to see any more of my travels?" Aragorn said dryly.

Buffy sidled up to him and effortlessly kicked his legs out from under him. Straddling him to pin him down, "Because I'm supposed to watch your back. Now I'm not saying it wouldn't be nice for you to watch mine too but I can't just let you hightail it away from me so you can throw yourself into the next dangerous situation you find."

"Am I ever to be rid of you?" Aragorn teased, somewhat discomfited by being flat on his back like this.

"Only when you're King, Aragorn," she answered, "Only when you're King and have your own personal army of bodyguards and minders. And even then I'd be very sceptical about their ability to keep up with the amount of trouble you can land yourself into."

"So, is that forever then?" Aragorn teased her, trying to tickle her into getting off him, even though she was careful not to put weight on his cracked ribs.

"Maybe." Buffy said wistfully, "Maybe."

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Lothlórien. 2980, TA. The month of Nénimë (February).

Cocooned in the serenity of the Golden Wood, Buffy and Galadriel sat in the small but beautiful mirror grove, enjoying each other's company.

"What weighs on your mind Buffy?" Galadriel asked, noting the distant expression of her friend.

"Questions that I don't have answers to," Buffy replied, "You see, a few years ago, I began to notice this amazing thing. I'm thirty-two, yet I still look the same as I did when I first came to Middle Earth. I don't suppose you have any answers for me, do you?"

"All you had to do was ask," Galadriel said with a smile, "The Valar gave you a gift, tithen Dagnir (little slayer). Aragorn will outlive lesser men, being of Númenórean descent. He would have outlived your longest natural life by a century and a half. And so they gave to you the gift that they gave to the Númenóreans so long ago; to have a greater lifespan than lesser men and to age only slowly, showing your tale of years only near the end of your life."

Buffy gaped at her, "Exactly how long is longer?"

"About two hundred years if you do not fall in battle or to illness." the Lady of the Wood replied.

"That's well… wow. How come I wasn't told before?" she demanded.

"You did not ask."

"Stupid PTB." Buffy muttered, "I don't suppose you know why Sauron's after me, do you?"

"That, I suspect, you know better than I," the she-Elf said seriously, "But I warn you Buffy, to draw his attention is to court death. Aragorn has had to hide from him since his birth for he is ever hunted. I would not like to see the same happen to you."

"I've already escaped the wraiths before. I don't have any plans to go near them again. I'm really not into demons that I can't kill."

Galadriel placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "If it was meant to be, then it should all work out. In all honesty, I was surprised you kept a low profile for as long as you did. Discretion has never been your strong suit."

"A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do," Buffy said, "Though it's nice to have a holiday after all that time chasing ranger boy around."

Knowing blue eyes looked at her, "The Golden Wood eases many weary hearts but it cannot drive away love, Buffy."

"You know?" Buffy whispered.

"Your heart beats with love." Galadriel answered, "You love him even though you wish not to."

"It is not returned." Buffy said sadly.

"You are young yet. There is time. And you have already stepped upon your path." the Lady said reassuringly.

"Can we just not talk about Aragorn? It's painful enough without dredging it all up here."

"As you wish mellon nîn {my friend}." Galadriel's lips twitched slightly, almost as if she was trying to hold in laughter.

Buffy glared at her, "Fine! Laugh all you want! You just have to mind-read, don't you?"

"'Tis unfair to say that when you desire to ask me something about him." Galadriel pointed out.

Buffy proceeded to explain what had happened when Denethor poisoned Aragorn in Minas Tirith and how she had saved him using the slayer strength by sharing her blood to strengthen his. Galadriel listened intently, a sombre expression on her fair face.

When Buffy had finished, she spoke, "'Tis a very serious matter Buffy. Even Elrond, the most skilled healer on these Hither Shores, would hesitate to do such a thing for fear of the consequences."

"What consequences?" Buffy asked nervously.

Galadriel looked at her intently, "When such a thing is not done right, there can be a… bond of sorts left between healer and healed, but with your feelings for him, it doubly complicates matters."

"How?" Buffy asked, growing more anxious by the minute.

"Your heart urged him to come back, and gave him the strength he needed. But your head does not rule your heart and you were not as detached as a healer should be when trying such a thing. You delved into his mind, and your heart, which loves him, did what you did not know it could. It reached out to the one who held it and something occurred which you could not have foreseen."

"What?" Buffy said brokenly, dreading the answer.

"My dear girl, you bonded him your husband."

"I WHAT?!!" Buffy nearly screeched.

"I know not if it would hold in the eyes of the Valar, having been done unknowingly by both parties but you initiated the bond, your slayer heritage strengthening it, and it will be you who feels it most. 'Tis unlikely Aragorn will ever feel it save in the direst need."

"Because he loves someone else. Well, this is just great. No matter where I go, I get the love life from hell. Is there any way to break it?"

"Even the wisest cannot say." Galadriel answered sympathetically.

"Brilliant!" Buffy exclaimed, "Could I possibly have screwed up more?! Isn't there anything you can do? Magic or something? Anything?!" she asked desperately.

"Magic cannot change what is not meant to be." Galadriel replied, "If he loves you, then there is no problem. If he does not, then you must move on."

"He loves another woman." Buffy said, "Which means it's like me and Angel all over again. Not able to be with each other. The only exception was Angel loved me back."

"The bond will cause problems but if it is not allowed to flourish and by that I mean both of you loving each other, then it should be nothing more than hollow. And in the long run, it should enable you to know when Aragorn is in danger when you are not with him."

"I swear, it's the story of my life. I always fall for the wrong guy. Just tell me this, does Arwen love him back?"

"That I do not know," Galadriel said sorrowfully, "Yet it would grieve me greatly were the Evenstar to cleave to mortal kind."

"And have you seen anybody else in your mirror for me if Arwen does choose so?"

"I have only seen that you shall have a role to play in Sauron's fall, if we should win. And in delaying his rise to power if we should fail."

"But if we win, do I get to live a life? Or am I to be alone and miserable forever?"

"I do not know. But from knowing you, I cannot see you falling to the Dark Lord's servants."

"We're talking about the Lord of all Evil. Maybe measured optimism is best." Buffy said, "After all, there's plenty of time left for my time to come. I've already set a new record for longest living slayer. But there's only so much good luck one can have."

"Believe in a better future Buffy," Galadriel said quietly, "You may hurt now but if your love is truly not meant to be, then you will get over him and find happiness elsewhere. Do not give up because of the bad experiences of your past."

"I'm just tired of getting hurt Galadriel. I'm sick and tired of it. There's only so much even a slayer can take before she cracks."

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Lothlórien. 2980, TA. The month of Nénimë (February). Approximately three days later.

Buffy had been delighted to find that Arwen was staying in the Golden Wood for a time as well. Even though the mean, spiteful Cordelia-like part of her wanted to curse Arwen for being so beautiful and nice, and for being her unwitting rival, she shoved her own bitterness down and decided to enjoy her time with her friend.

Arwen had been surprised to see her still flush with youth and even more surprised with Buffy's answer.

Buffy's lips had quirked into a sad smile, "One of the major things we were told was that no slayer ever died of old age. There was more truth to that than we thought." She had then spilled the beans to an increasingly delighted Arwen, who was ecstatic that her friend would be with her for so much longer than she had thought Buffy would live.

"'Tis great news Buffy!" Arwen exclaimed delightedly, "Now you have more time to spend in Middle Earth without experiencing the rigours of old age for well over a century and a half! Ai, 'tis a priceless gift."

Buffy looked at her askance, "For those who are immortal, yes it's brill. For us mere mortals trying to find love and a life that doesn't involve chasing around the Heir of Isildur, it does makes things more complicated."

Arwen's doe eyes bored into her, "But Buffy, a lot of the noblemen of Gondor are descended from the Númenóreans. They will not be too surprised by your longevity."

"Denethor would have a heart attack if I showed up in Gondor again," Buffy said, "Ecthelion isn't going to be around forever and it'll be Denethor in charge. And that son of his, Boromir, will probably turn out the same if he's influenced by daddy. And if Aragorn becomes king, I'm not going to leech off of him."

"I would have thought he would have liked you to stay considering all you have done for him."

"If that time ever comes, we'll probably have been living out of each other's pockets for so long that we'll want to be as far away as possible. And your father will go West when Sauron is defeated. That means you and the twins will go too. And so will Galadriel if she's allowed. What am I going to do then? There's not exactly going to be many openings for a senior citizen slayer, is there?"

Arwen only smiled, doing her best 'I know something you don't know' expression, "I think you will have more choice than you think…"

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Bree, 2980, TA. The month of Viressë (April).

Buffy and Aragorn sat at a table in the inn of the Prancing Pony in Bree, with two tankards resting on the scarred and much scrubbed table-top.

They had spent much time catching up and now Aragorn was putting forward a proposition for Buffy. He was clad in full scruffy ranger gear instead of his old Gondorian captain's uniform and he kept drawing dirty looks from the innkeeper because of it.

Buffy had already been warned that 'them rangers were a dangerous lot, and that she'd be best to stay clear of them, causing Buffy to tease Aragorn mercilessly about his ability to look like a first class scoundrel.

"I much desire to see my good friend Legolas," Aragorn was saying, "I have not seen him for many years as the borders of his realm have been increasingly threatened in the last few decades and he has been needed at home. But I think that between us two, we should be well able to visit Mirkwood without dying in an attempt to gain entry."

"Mirkwood has _that_ many monsters?" Buffy asked sceptically.

"Orcs, wraiths, spiders, goblins, trees that try to kill you and a multitude of dark creatures that are drawn to Dol Guldur." he answered.

"Sounds like Sunnydale," Buffy muttered, "So are we there to visit or to help kill things?"

"Both," Aragorn replied, "The twins have assured me that you are more than a match for anything Mirkwood boasts. And if you can survive Thranduil, you can survive meeting any monarch in Arda."

"He's that bad?"

"Most would think him intimidating at least, terrifying at worst." Aragorn replied, "And he does not like anybody but Elves and perhaps Gandalf the Grey, in his Wood since the Battle of Five Armies."

"And this Legolas is Thranduil's son, right?" Buffy asked, "Is he anything like his father?"

"There is only one way for you to find out," Aragorn said with a grin, "Though I should warn you that Legolas is also great friends with Elladan and Elrohir."

"I'm doomed." Buffy groaned.

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Mirkwood. 2980, TA, the month of Lotessë (May).

Their trip to Mirkwood was eventful to say the least, considering that every species of nasty things in the forest seemed to want to come out to greet them.

The bedraggled ranger and slayer arrived in the Elvish kingdom after having fought their way through a pack of spiders, who, Buffy said, were just as ugly as Shelob, if smaller. The duo were covered in the shredded remnants of spider webbing, black blood, and dirt from their fight.

Buffy nudged Aragorn in warning just before a patrol of Elves dropped down from the trees, arrow notched and pointed at them.

"Mae govannen!" Aragorn greeted them, and then his face lit up in a smile when his gaze spotted one particular Elf. "Suilaid ernil nîn!" {Greetings, my prince!} he said, hugging him.

Buffy stood to the side and silently appraised he who could only be Legolas Greenleaf. Tall and leanly slender, he cut a striking figure. Instead of the normal brown of the Wood-Elves, his hair was a bright golden colour and warm silver-blue eyes had glinted as he embraced Aragorn like a brother.

He was, in Buffy's opinion, a major hottie, to put it mildly. Why did all Elves have to be so cute?

Aragorn finally stopped playing catch-up for long enough to introduce Buffy to his friend, "This is my good friend, Buffy, a warrior formerly of Gondor," he said, "Buffy, this is Prince Legolas Greenleaf, one of my dearest friends."

"Nice to meet you, hir nîn," (my lord) she said politely.

He gave her a slight bow, "Greetings and welcome, hiril nîn." (my lady). Turning back to Aragorn, he said, "Let us return to my father's halls. We have had word of your coming for two days now and I am sure you could both use some time to.. Freshen up. You look like you have been rolling in the dirt with orcs."

"Spiders," Buffy and Aragorn corrected at the same time, both scowling sourly, causing Legolas to chuckle.

"It was a nest of spiders," Aragorn elaborated.

"A nest of big, ugly, stinky spiders," Buffy added.

Legolas laughed again, and the rest of his patrol seemed to be trying hard to keep straight faces, "Come!" he said again, "We shall make you presentable before you see my father!"

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While Aragorn had been spirited away for a bath, a shave and some clean clothes by Legolas, who was enjoying teasing the more than a little scruffy ranger, Buffy had been led away by one of the maidservants.

Buffy really couldn't fault the service in Mirkwood, she'd been led to a nice hot bath and when she came out there'd been food and wine waiting for her. Also, Legolas seemed to have arranged for a dress to be hastily altered to fit Buffy. Apparently, (or at least according to Ivorwen, the maid), the good prince feared that Aragorn's messy ways would have been passed on to his lady friend and Eru forbid, she would go in front of Thranduil looking like a mud-brawling ranger.

According to the gossip of Ivorwen, there was a long-standing bet going on every time the Lord Estel visited the forest, centred on how soon he would be up to his ears in trouble, and filth.

King Thranduil was in despair of ever keeping the ranger out of trouble and did not approve so much of the man for some reason. Buffy expected it was something to do with Aragorn's heritage. She'd heard that Thranduil had lost much in the Last Alliance and he probably wouldn't have been pleased with Isildur keeping the One Ring.

From all of Aragorn's delightfully embellished stories about Thranduil, she'd been expecting a whip in one hand, a scythe in the other and an evil cackle but the Elf she met wasn't anything like that.

Thranduil was tall and golden like his son, but to Aragorn and Legolas's surprise, after Buffy had been introduced as Buffy Dagnir {Slayer} and Thranduil found out what Buffy's calling was, both Elvenking and slayer had gotten on like two hobbits at a feast.

Apparently, Thranduil harboured the same kind of love for weapons and killing things that Buffy had, and so when they'd entered into a discussion on how best to decapitate an orc, both ranger and Elf-Prince had slipped out of the room, wanting to get away from the surreal conversation.

Ere long it was all over the palace that the small woman the Lord Estel had brought with him had done the impossible and impressed the King.

Thranduil and Buffy didn't care, both happy to have someone on the same wavelength when it came to slaying things and so their friendship progressed speedily.

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Exploring the gardens together, Legolas was no longer able to rein in his curiosity over the woman who had so quickly befriended his, sometimes more than a little hostile, father.

"Is she as good in combat as she claims?" he asked.

Aragorn nodded, "Probably better. She rescued me from Cirith Ungol and departed with only a scratch."

"Your trust her?" Legolas probed, deciding not to ask why his friend had been in Cirith Ungol of all places.

"With my life," Aragorn replied, "Do not worry, she will not harm your father. In fact, even thinking of the two of them closeted away in the palace, discussing the many, varied ways of maiming and killing is enough to make me shiver."

"At least you will not have to live with him after this," Legolas said dryly, "He will say that even if he is King, he should be able to go fight and then he will get stubborn and in a towering temper when the Captain of his Guards tries to forbid him. The palace will shake and be on tip-toes for a month trying to avoid my father's wrath while you and Buffy are far away from here."

Aragorn winced at the picture his friend drew, "Ai! I pity you if that is the case, meldir." {Friend}

"You two seem close though," Legolas said thoughtfully, "Is your relationship platonic or something else?"

Aragorn glared at the sly tone in his friend's voice, "We are friends, that is all. My heart still belongs to the fair Evenstar."

Aragorn missed the stony expression that flickered across Legolas's face for a second before an expressionless mask went up, "Buffy and I may have had our moments but I can safely say we are just close friends,"

"Does she know that?"

"Of course, 'twas she who insisted on it when Ecthelion of Gondor tried to push us together. I do not think she has much interest in being courted by anyone."

Legolas kept his silence when Aragorn chattered on about his time in Gondor. Aragorn may have been living safely in denial, but Legolas had not missed the soft expression on Buffy's face when she looked at the ranger sometimes.

She cared for him, even if he knew it not.

Oh why did Aragorn have to be fixated on the one maiden in Middle Earth that had caught and kept Legolas's attention?

Sighing, he realised that he and this Buffy were obviously in the same boat.

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"I should name you Elvellon, {elf-friend}" Thranduil said, happily full after a scrumptious dinner.

"I think you'll find that Galadriel and Elrond already beat you to it."

Thranduil mock scowled, "Those Noldor always have to be the first to do everything," he grouched.

"Oh c'mon!" Buffy said, trying to cheer them up, "Everyone knows the Wood-Elves are the better archers!"

"True," Thranduil agreed, somewhat mollified, "But tell me are you the same apprentice of Elrond's that beat up Glorfindel, you know, the one who killed the Balrog?"

Buffy grinned wickedly, "Let me tell you _all_ about it!…"

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A week passed ere Legolas found time to talk to Buffy alone.

"Good evening," he greeted her, "May I talk to you for a while?"

"Sure, take a seat," she said, gesturing to the stone bench beside her. "What's on your mind?" she asked.

"I would like to get to know you better," Legolas said, "I realise that I have not had much of a chance to talk to you since I have been catching up on news with Aragorn."

"I can't blame you for that. I know you haven't seen each other in ages," Buffy said.

"But still, I would like for us to be friends too." Legolas said sincerely, "Especially since the two of us might just be able to match the twins for pranks, and even better them if we enlist Aragorn as well…"

"I'm listening…" Buffy said, as she settled in for some serious conversation.

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"I'm flattered, Thranduil, really." Buffy said with a bright smile, "But I can't. You know what mission the Valar gave me. While a place in your guard would be cool, I just can't do it."

Thranduil harrumphed, "I know that. I just want you to come when you have some free time and can help my warriors run these foul creatures out of my forest. The wood has plenty of demons for you to slay and I would take advantage of your skills to hunt them down if I could."

"You know, that's a very Thranduil-esque way of saying 'visit often'," Buffy teased fondly, But sure, I'll come and patrol the forest when I get a chance. I can always crash at the palace and me and Legolas can torment your household with pranks! Or even better, I can bring the twins with me!"

Thranduil paled, and then glared at her, "If you bring those two vicious little trolls of Elrond's into my forest, I will personally throw you into the Forest River!"

Buffy's laughter drifted behind her as she left the room….

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A/N: So? Opinions please! Please READ and REVIEW!!!! Please take a look at the **QUESTION **AT THE END! Please!

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Next Chapter: The Evenstar and the Slayer. - Aragorn, Arwen, Buffy and Legolas all end up in Lórien at the same time…. Confrontations…. Visions… pledges… sisterly love… bad guys… heartbreak… comfort… tears… the Mirror of Galadriel…

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Elvish:

Viressë - Quenya for April

Nénimë - Quenya for February

tithen Dagnir - little slayer

mellon nîn - my friend  
Lotessë - Quenya for May

Suilaid ernil nîn - Greetings, my prince

hir nîn - my lord  
hiril nîn - my lady  
meldir - friend

Elvellon - Elf-friend.

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Cirith Ungol - Translates as 'Spider's Cleft'. The name was lent not only to the pass but to the fortress that guarded it as well. Cirith Ungol was a fortress unto its own. The Tower of Cirith Ungol, was a stronghold made by the Men of Gondor after the Last Alliance to keep watch on Mordor but Mordor took it over.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

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Torech Ungol - Shelob's Lair,

Another **_QUESTION: _**since you darling reviewers were so vocal about Glorfindel and Arwen, I decided to give you another chance to rewrite history. The Choice is does _Boromir **LIVE **_or **_DIE_? **With Buffy's help he could be saved, and on the other hand it could make his death more hasty. What's it to be?

And if the answer is **_LIVE_**, what should happen to **_FARAMIR_**?


	13. The Evenstar and the Slayer

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's Notes: some lines in this fic have been taken from 'The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen', from the appendixes of the Lord of the Rings.

And to clear something up Saruman is NOT the Mouth of Sauron. The Mouth (hereby after to be referred to as the MoS). In RotK, chapter name: The Black Gate Opens, the MoS is described as follows:

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"There rode a tall and evil shape, mounted on a black horse… The rider was robed all in black, and black was his lofty helm; yet this was no Ringwraith but a living man. The Lieutenant of the Tower of Barad-dûr he was, and his name is remembered in no tale; for he himself had forgotten it, and he said, 'I am the Mouth of Sauron'. But it is told that he was a renegade, who came of the race of those that are named Black Númenóreans, for they established their dwellings in Middle Earth during the years of Sauron's domination, and they worshipped him, being enamoured of evil knowledge. And he entered the service of the Dark Tower when it first rose again, and because of his cunning he grew ever higher in the Lord's favour; and he learned great sorcery, and knew much of the mind of Sauron, and he was more cruel than any orc."

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Review responses:

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - you have a psychic streak, don't you?

Anna - about the flashback you mentioned, I really haven't given it much thought as I've been caught up with the repercussions of this chapter. By the time you've read it, you'll see what I mean. But I might do it now that you've put it into my mind…. Buffy is not immune to the Nazgûl blade per say, but as she's literally already possessed by another spirit, (her slayer nature), the poison can't turn her into a wraith and just acts as a strong sedative with hangover like after-effects. Sorry, no hints about Sauron's plans! That plotline is being held in a safety deposit box in Zurich!

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Catlimere - Your reviews are always a treat! :) and if you have some really twisted imagination (like me), a plot can be twisted any which way you like. Liked your way of putting things, 'one step forward and three back with these people'. Too true, though glad you thought it was in character. And in reference to it, it's gonna be one step forward, ten steps back in this chapter. And no, the Mouth of Sauron is not Saruman! See author's note for full details. Arwen? Matchmaking? Well, she's a little busy in this chapter but she might have a part in it in the future. And you're right, there's only so much a slayer can take and that's going to be tested in this chapter! (evil music plays…)

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ChibiChibi - about the re-reading thing, I wouldn't sweat it. I've a friend who still hasn't got to the RotK section of the book after FOUR years.

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Cristina - Thanks! :) Your vote is noted and thanks for all the lovely compliments!

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Dani - Good ideas! Are you psychic? :)

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Darkseed - I don't know. I was of the opinion that Boromir _always_ was a good man. Even Isildur couldn't resist the lure of the ring and after his father died to try to destroy it, he should have known better. In my opinion, Boromir wanted so desperately to save his people, remember he was much loved and respected in Gondor, that he fell to the power of the ring, kinda like temporary insanity, but he then redeemed himself by trying to save Merry and Pippin when he could have gone after Frodo again or gone back to Minas Tirith with his tail between his legs. I always thought that his death just made his redemption very tragic.

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Dreamer Child - Thanks! Yes, Legolas/Buffy friendship is in the wings. Aragorn not gonna forget about Arwen so easily. Read on to see the whole saga. And to give a general idea of when Aragorn stops being dense, does sometime around the War of the Ring suffice?

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Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell - Mae govannen! Thanks so much! :) Glorfindel won so everyone's happy. Well, except Arwen. Your idea is good but I've already given Arwen a role to play in the Hobbit pick up and delivery. Yeah, I like Boromir too, and it is most definitely a war against the masses. Cool writing on the whole death scene anyway, your own work? Kudos to you! I think Denethor hated Faramir plenty without Boromir's death. After that, he just wanted to send Faramir off on suicide missions. And yes, the Buffy vs. Denethor meeting in the War of the Ring will _not_ be pleasant! Anything but! Thanks for the long review! I LOVE long reviews! Your ideas are always really thoughtful! Happy reading! Námarië!

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Gregdoreza - Oh, she knows that his sons are not fools. And as for Éowyn, she will have the hots for Aragorn but I'm rather fond of pairing her with Faramir.

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Herald-Mage Brianna - what show? Sorry, but I didn't get that. Sadly, Faramir will not be going with Fellowship. He's pivotal in helping Frodo and Sam pass through Ithilien.

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Imp17 - Yes, everyone seems to be looking forward to Buffy/Boromir interaction. And thanks for the review! :)

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JeanB - interesting points… hmm, plenty of fodder for ideas there…. All of the troublemakers in the same place? Pity is an understatement in that case. I made Buffy somewhat immune to the venom because her power originated from a nasty demon so it gives her a sort of natural immunity to the lure of darkness sort of thing. It'll have a sedative sort of effect but nothing lethal like Frodo would have experiences. And you should know better than to underestimate the Witch-King by now… (grins evilly) I don't want to give too much of the game away but let's just say Sauron didn't want a certain slayer dead just yet so she walked free because they'd already gotten what they wanted from her. For now.

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Jenn - Loyalty comes in many forms and I've got so many ways to show you if Boromir lives. If he doesn't, well some other character can do it. Thanks for your comments!

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Jess S1 - Legolas interaction will grow heavier with time, especially when Aragorn's not around to monopolise him. Faramir will NEVER be Boromir's shadow. Even the appendixes mention how they totally got on with each other and though the other was super.

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Lady of the Wood - Now, if I told you that, what would be the fun? Seriously, thanks for the compliments! :) and I LOVE long reviews! And your comments about Boromir are duly noted and added to the growing pile. :)

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Lunawolf - oh boy, if you hate Arwen _now_, what are you going to be feeling like at the end of this chapter? And remember, if you kill me, you'll never find out what happens! And yeah, I always personally envision Thranduil as being the manic kind of scary as opposed to the really scary kind of scary. And if you understand that, you are VERY good! :) As for the Arwen thing… well, I hope you're not going to set out on a killing spree! (ducks thrown keyboard!) Have a nice time in Scotland!

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Mari - Aragorn - very stubborn man. That about sums up everything he does. NO BUFFY CLONES! And about your idea, what would Boromir do in Rohan? Sorry, but I just need clarification on that. As for your other question, Denethor would never allow Faramir to go somewhere where dear daddy couldn't make him miserable for being born.

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Mj - Comments duly noted. Your Legolas/Buffy question is answered in this chapter so I won't spoil it for you.

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N/A - it is a little late but don't worry, Glorfindel won out. And do you have a psychic streak?

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Pam - Thanks! Cool ideas by the way! And yeah, Aragorn likes to beat himself up. A lot.

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Restive Nature - Thanks a million! :) I never said Buffy specifically would be the only one to save Boromir if he lives. I don't think it could be as clear-cut as that. But good analysis on Buffy. Nah, Thranduil won't be playing matchmaker. Having Legolas fall for a mortal would NOT be a good thing in his mind! As for Buffy, the twins, the ranger and Legolas… that would be a _scary_ gathering in anyone's opinion! Even Sauron's!

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Shadow Master - Éowyn deserves the glory she got and I'm not going to take it away from her. Buffy will be a little busy around then anyway. (looks mysterious) As for Buffy clones - there's been stories with Buffy clones?! Note my shock here. I am doing NOTHING of the sort. Mouth of Sauron is NOT Saruman. You are on to something with some part of your review though. The Mouth of Sauron has something nasty planned for Buffy and that's all I'm saying on that. I never liked killing off the main characters either, as long as I liked them anyway. Sadly, there are no warehouses around Parth Galen. So alas, no 'Lethal Weapon' type explosion.

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ShawThang - I dearly hope that Buffy is nowhere near Mary Sue land!

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Shimmyontherooftops - thanks! Your vote has been taken into consideration. I get what you mean about Faramir but I'm not _that_ cruel! The 'battle' becomes war in this chapter! Thanks so much for all the compliments!

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Star - Thanks! Ff . net likes to eat things on me too. A LOT. It really makes for havoc and frustration when trying to post. Kudos to you for your in-depth answer and ideas! :) They are really well-thought out and all round super! And as for Boromir's future if he lived, there's plenty of titbits in the appendixes to sort out something! Thanks so much for the review, the obvious amount of time you put into it really meant something and I was really perked up reading it, so thanks again. Glad to know you're enjoying my fic.

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Stone Cooper - RL will permit updates to continue speedily until September 1st. After that RL will interrupt with a bang! Arwen action in this chapter! They'll only encounter Bilbo in Rivendell, Buffy arrived in ME after the Battle of Five Armies.

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Svarra - Thanks! Although, Sam wasn't tempted very much either so I think he's worth a mention. Your reasoning is very good though! :)

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And major thanks to:

Anon, Anonymous, Anonymous, Anonymous, boo, Delphine Pryde, DragonStar, gaul1, goldenshadows, Haley, harry, Jania, little mause, loz-179, majbitca, Malfeus, ms8309, Nefertare, Night-Owl123, Pans, Wood Elf,

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE EVENSTAR (AND THE SLAYER)

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Mirkwood, 2980, TA. The month of Lotessë, (May).

If Buffy had been surprised to have Legolas show up at her door for no apparent reason, she didn't show it. Welcoming him in, they chatted comfortably for several minutes before Legolas broached the subject he had come to discuss.

"Buffy, can I speak plainly?" he asked, "There is a matter that I want to talk about with you, because I feel that we can each understand what the other is going through."

Uh-oh, Buffy thought, suddenly wary but she nodded in the affirmative. "What's up?" she asked casually.

"Your feelings for Aragorn." Legolas said without preamble.

Buffy gaped at him for a second before concealing her shock. "Damn Elves," Buffy murmured under her breath before answering, "Whatever do you mean?" she asked innocently.

"You are in love with him." he stated without any infliction.

"I don't have the slightest clue what you're going on about," Buffy lied, flashing him a small puzzled smile.

Legolas just looked at her with one eyebrow raised, "You lie. You know perfectly well what I speak of. Do not play me for a fool, Buffy. At least refuse to answer instead of lying to me, and to yourself. Denial will get you nowhere."

"I didn't deny it! I just didn't admit it!" Buffy said stubbornly, refusing to get into the whole mess with one of Aragorn's best friends.

"So I am right?" he asked softly, not wanting to pressure her too much.

"Do I have a sign on my forehead that says so or something," Buffy said exasperated, "'Cos you wouldn't be the first Elf to tell me that I'm hopeless when it comes to love."

"I did not come to condemn you, I came because I think we can both understand what the other is feeling."  
  
"What do you mean?"

"I believe that I love Arwen as you do Aragorn. As we both have gifted love upon another only to not have it returned, I thought that we had something in common."

"You like.. Arwen?" Buffy said slowly, she hadn't seen that one coming.

"I think I am in love with her," the Elf admitted somewhat sorrowfully, "I am unsure because I have not dared approach her when Aragorn is so… vocal about his feelings for her."

"Didn't want to be a bad friend, huh?" Buffy said sympathetically, "Boy, do I know that feeling! But before I say anything more, I presume this conversation is confidential?"

"I have held my tongue for a decade," Legolas said wryly, "I am hardly going to start gossiping now."

"Good," Buffy said, "But are you sure Arwen doesn't like you back?"

"I think she sees me as a close friend, perhaps even a brother, but the Evenstar harbours no other feelings for me," he answered sadly, silver-blue eyes morose and wistful.

"You are immortal," Buffy said trying to cheer him up. While she wasn't as close to him as she was to the twins, she'd gotten to know him a bit since her stay in Mirkwood and thought he was someone who'd be a good friend once they got past the initial awkward stage. "You've got plenty of time to convince her you're perfect for her."

"And if she chooses a mortal life to be with Aragorn?"

"Then we're both gonna be depressed little people," Buffy said lightly in an attempt to mask the hurt she felt at that thought.

"I am sorry, Buffy, that Aragorn's heart is bestowed on another," the Elf said quietly but sincerely, "If it makes you feel any better, I do know that Lord Elrond would much rather the object of his affections to have been you, rather than Arwen."

"Elrond would have rathered Aragorn married an orc than Arwen," she answered with a bitter chuckle, "Don't mind me Legolas, I'm used to having the worst luck with men."

Legolas didn't seem to believe she was alright and hesitantly, he reached out and wrapped an arm around her, giving her a hug for comfort.

And so, united in longing, grief and understanding, Buffy and Legolas grew to become very close friends in the short time Buffy stayed in the forest.

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The southern parts of the Forest of Mirkwood, currently under the sway of Dol Guldur, one of the Dark Lord's fortresses, in the year 2980 of the Third Age, in the month of Nárië (June).

Oftentimes during their stay, Buffy and Aragorn joined Legolas's patrol to help him get drive back the foul things that sought to overthrow the Elves of Mirkwood.

But it was on one expedition into the orc and spider infested southern parts of the forest, that it all went drastically wrong.

Surprised by a sudden onslaught from the three Nazgûl that resided in Dol Guldur, the patrol was sundered when its members were forced to fight their way out of the trap. Three people, having been singled out by the Ringwraiths for imminent execution ahead of the other Elves of the patrol, were forced deep into the dark recesses of Southern Mirkwood.

Aragorn, Buffy and Legolas, the unfortunate people singled out, were forced to flee in the opposite direction to the rest of Legolas's patrol after he sounded the retreat, lest they lead the Nazgûl to chase them right into the lands Thranduil held.

Only Legolas had the slightest idea where he was going and after hurriedly discussing it with the two humans, he said that the Nazgûl would probably have blocked all routes back to his father's stronghold, and that the only way to avoid an untimely trip to Dol Guldur was to disappear for a while.

He proposed seeking shelter under the boughs of Lothlórien until it was safe to return to the Elvenking's Halls and both Aragorn and Buffy agreed, somewhat unnerved by the ominous creaking of the twisted trees that somehow held malice towards them, and of the shrill shrieks of the Nazgûl as they drove orcs before them in an attempt to find their small party.

And so it was, that after many days of hard riding that left even Legolas weary and left both Aragorn and Buffy near comatose from lack of sleep, none of them having dared rest until they were within the secure borders of the Golden Wood, the trio came to the borders of the wood and were guided to the city of Caras Galadhon by the Marchwarden, Haldir.

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 2980 TA, in the month of Nárië (June).

Galadriel greeted the three travellers as soon as they reached Caras Galadhon. All three were feeling much revived since they had slept long with the border patrol. "The servants of the enemy hunt you still," she said knowingly, "So you shall rest here a while and you, Prince Legolas, may return to your father's halls when the pursuit slackens. As for you Elessar and Dagnir nín (my slayer), I fear other matters shall call you to leave the Golden Wood when the time comes."

As they all made to thank the Lady of the Wood, a dark-haired elleth (Elf-maid) came rushing into the talan. Arwen Undómiel, having heard of their arrival and delighted to have so many friends in Lórien at once, came to greet them. "Buffy! Legolas! Estel! Suilaid!" (greetings!)

Even as Buffy was drawn into a hug from her friend, she noticed that Aragorn's eyes were fixed on the ecstatic elleth, clouded with love and longing. Buffy forced herself not to look at him after that, and after shooting Legolas a quick glance out of the corner of her eye, noticed that he was equally pained and trying to hide it.

But even as they were led away to get some food and freshen up a little, Buffy was acutely aware of Aragorn staring yearningly at Arwen as the chattering elf-maiden led the disheartened slayer away.

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That night, Aragorn was bade by Galadriel to cast aside his wayworn raiment and she clothed him in silver and white, with a cloak of Elven-grey and a bright gem on his brow. Then more than any kind of Men he appeared, and seemed rather an Elf-lord from the Isles of the West.

And thus it was that Arwen beheld him again after their long parting; and as he came walking towards her under the trees of Caras Galadhon laden with flowers of gold, her choice was made and her doom appointed.

The last time they had met, when he had thought her an image of Lúthien, her foremother, and called her Tinúviel, he had been a boy. Green to her eyes, lacking experience of the world and besotted with a dream that had died in the First Age.

But now, he looked more than any man she had seen, even those Kings of Arnor she had seen in her youth, and lordly and magnificent did he look, fairer to her eyes than any Elf-lord she had seen, save a few perhaps. The pride and dignity of nearly forgotten Númenor encompassed him and she felt drawn to him as she had not felt for any male in Middle Earth.

She felt her heart flutter with the first stirrings of love and instead of resisting, she gave in wholeheartedly.

"Lady Evenstar," he greeted her, "May I walk with you under the boughs?"

"You may, hir nîn (my Lord)," she answered, Aníral toled an govaded nin? (Do you want to come to meet me?). Or do you seek Tinúviel once more?" She had to know whether he cared for her revered beauty, or for herself.

He walked closer to her, and looked her in the eye, "Tinúviel herself could not compare to you, Arwen," he said with emotion, and he seemed to be keeping himself from touching her, "In all my days in this world, I have not felt such for anyone save you. I see you and I long to hold to you, to hear your voice, anything to stave off the loneliness I feel knowing that I am not worthy of you and never can be. I am mortal kind and you are Elf-kind, I know this. But my heart will not be silent, no matter how much I bid it to quieten."

She was silent for a long while, weighing his words in her mind, but when she spoke at last, her eyes were bright, "Mortal blood flows in my veins too, and that of my father's kin. I look upon you now and you seem to me like one of the Lords of my people that dwell in the West. I do not know what I feel for you, but I say this, you have awakened something in me that I did not know existed and I would see where it leads. To whatever end. Walk with me, Aran o Gondor (King of Gondor), and let us not speak of the future in favour of getting to know each other. Dark times await us outside these borders, but for now, let us enjoy the light."

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A few days later, an excited and delirious with happiness Aragorn visited Buffy in the guest talan that she normally occupied when she was in the Golden Wood. He wanted to talk with her, and she agreed readily.

She had not spent much time with him these past few days, and had instead passed the time with Legolas and Galadriel. Arwen was also conspicuously absent during these times, and both the Slayer and the Elf Prince knew that their respective loves were together, re-learning the ways of courtship as a couple, though the two morose warriors never mentioned it.

She followed his lead by sitting down in the soft grass and when the silence stretched too long, she broke it. "What's bothering you Aragorn? If you keep on frowning so much you'll end up all wrinkly."

"I need your advice," Aragorn blurted out, and proceeded to near babble, (yes, _babble_!) to Buffy's immense surprise. Aragorn normally didn't babble. Obviously, love had fried his brain circuits. "I need to know what Arwen likes and I cannot ask any of her family for fear of them trying to lynch me and I know that you are good friends with her, so could you please aid me in this?"

"Ok, slow down buddy and let me get this straight. You want my help to woo Arwen?" she said in disbelief. Eru hated her, it was so obvious. Why else was her life hell?! "Why me?"

"Because I consider you as a sister to me, and I know you are close to Arwen as well. I trust your judgement in such things."

Buffy really hadn't thought her heart could hurt more than it ever had during the whole Angel saga, but apparently, someone just wanted to prove her wrong. He thought of her as his _sister_?! He might as well have stabbed her in the gut and it would have hurt less. Her heart felt like it was cracking in two and it was all because of him.

Why did she always have to go for the guy who didn't want her/couldn't be with her/plain didn't want her? Who had she annoyed in a past life to deserve this?

"I think Arwen might return my love you see," he was saying, "And I have longed for this chance for such a length of time that I cannot imagine ruining it now through unwitting folly."

Buffy pasted a smile on her face that was so false, even Aragorn would have seen through it if he had been paying attention to her, instead of his fantasies about life with Arwen, and swore to herself that she wouldn't ruin this for her friends.

She would keep her peace, and she and Legolas could both suffer in silence.

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As if to prove to Buffy that the universe was indeed conspiring against her, 'twas Arwen who sought her out next. Buffy had planned to go and talk Haldir into sparring with her to work off her mad and then to go to her talan and cry into her pillow. Someone Up There definitely hated her guts. With a rare vengeance.

And to follow the theme of the month, all Arwen wanted to talk about was Aragorn. She seemed to want Buffy to not only be absolutely delighted for her and super encouraging but to play Devil's Advocate as well.

Buffy really wasn't sure how much more of these heartfelt conversations she could take.

"I love him," Arwen had admitted, "I am nearly sure of it. When he is near, I feel… lighter, happier. My heart flutters when I see him and I think of him when I dream. Oh, but Buffy, would that we had never met! Though I might not know the joy I feel now in his presence, at least I would not have to make such a terrible choice!"

Buffy had mentally counted to a thousand to keep her composure and though she had vowed to support her friend, she felt she had to point out the enormity of the sacrifice Arwen was thinking of making.

"But the choice of the children of Elrond is not one to be taken lightly," Buffy warned, "Once you make your choice, you can't change your mind. As long as your father stays in Middle Earth, you will have an immortal life. But he'll leave after Sauron falls and if Aragorn lives to see it, you will be parted from him forever. You will never see your mother again and honestly, I don't see Elladan and Elrohir choosing a mortal life. Not with the whole of Valinor yet to be terrorised by them! Mortality isn't all it's made out to be, Arwen."

Arwen's luminous face was grave, "I know what my choice entails. To either be sundered from my love, or my family. Ai! A more difficult choice I have never faced!" She looked like she was being torn in two and Buffy's heart went out to her.

She pulled the taller woman to her, urging her to lay her head in her lap, and soothingly played with the long dark hair. "Arwen, you don't have to make this choice now. You can't rush into something like this! And trust me, beating yourself up over it is not going to do any good! And listen, you have to ask yourself this; do you really love him? And if you do, do you love him enough to sacrifice everything you are? There's a big difference between being 'in like' and 'in love'. I've made the same mistake before Arwen. Are you sure it's love?"

"I have never felt this way before mellon nîn (my friend)," Arwen said fervently, "I do not know what madness has taken hold of me, but I have never felt such.. Such joy when I am with someone. If love is this madness, I have not the experience to tell. 'Twas part of the reason I came to you."

Buffy ignored the devil on her shoulder saying get rid of the competition and instead listened to the angel, which was telling her to be a friend and not a nice little backstabber type person. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to say the words even though they were killing her.

"Arwen, I can't tell you that. It's something you gotta find out for yourself. And you're not going to do that talking to me. If you wanna find out if you really love him or if you're just infatuated, you've got to spend time with him and find out."

Even if the sight of you together kills me, Buffy thought.

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Lothlórien, 2980, TA, the season of Lairë (Summer).

Then for a season they wandered together in the glades of Lothlórien, until it came time for him to depart. - From 'The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen', the appendixes of the Lord of the Rings.

For the whole of summer they courted, heedless of the rumours that floated around the Golden Wood, saying that their Lady's granddaughter would bind herself to a mortal, and the foster son of her father no less!

They walked, they talked, they danced, they spent time together whenever possible. And for all intents and purposes they were nearly joined at the hip.

For Aragorn's part, he felt buoyed with love, ready to go out and face down Sauron himself if only his Lady were to ask it of him. She was his meleth (love) and his heart and head were filled with thoughts of her.

Though some part of him reminded him that he had dreadfully neglected both Legolas and Buffy. But Legolas had spent much time trying to gather information from his father's realm on whether it was safe to return to his home and Buffy had made a habit of trying to see how much she could scare the warriors of Lórien by asking to spar with them, so his guilt was assuaged somewhat.

He knew he was hopelessly in love with her. He adored everything about her. From the mischievous Arwen that had trained under Elladan and Elrohir, the Twin Terrors of Rivendell, to the awe-inspiring Arwen whose gifts and manner made obvious that she was a scion of Kings, of Lúthien Tinúviel, the greatest of Elven sorceresses and of Melian the Maia.

But 'twas the eve of Midsummer and to those who dwelt under Lórien's boughs, summer had nearly passed into autumn, and though he had lingered in the Golden Wood as long as he could, he could linger no more. And now a choice must be appointed to his beloved and a question asked.

Once more walking under the golden boughs of the mellryn, she turned to him with her deep grey eyes, already knowing the subject which he wanted to broach.

No words passed between them on the matter, but each knew the time had come at last to discuss the future and what it held for them.

"Man lu telithal na nin? (When will you come to me?)" Arwen asked, stopping and sitting down on the green grass, her back leaning against a mallorn tree.

"Neth thín. (At evendim.)" he answered, "On Cerin Amroth."

She nodded once, "Then I shall meet with you there."

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In the grand talan of Galadriel, in the Lady's bedroom, a miserable, and down in the dumps Buffy sat clutching a beautifully embroidered pillow, having just finished telling Galadriel about her suspicions regarding Aragorn and Arwen's relationship. And on how she suspected that a commitment was imminent between them.

"Are you feeling better now?" the Elf-Lady asked sympathetically.

"Yeah, I'm getting there." Buffy sniffled, "I'm wanting to pummel him right now but what can I do? He's chosen who he wants to be with and it's not me."

"You should not give up hope. Elrond will not support this match. And whatever the ramifications for Middle Earth, neither will I or Celeborn. Arwen is our granddaughter. I do not want to lose her to a death beyond the circles of this world."

Buffy glared furiously at her pillow, "I may be in love with him but I am _not_ desperate. I want him to be with me, yes, but not as second best to Arwen or anybody. I couldn't take that. I want him to be with me because he wants to and because he loves me. Not just because I'm the best of the rest."

"I have never known Aragorn to be so cruel." Galadriel said serenely.

"He's not. At least not intentionally. He's just as dense as the rock of a Dwarven mine. Especially when he's beating himself up for being related to Isildur."

"Mayhap if you had made your interest known ere he reunited with Arwen?" she prompted.

Buffy flopped on her back, staring upwards in frustration, "Aragorn would either have run a mile or be with me because he pitied me. Not what I want and definitely not something to boost a girl's ego."

Galadriel stood up, "'Tis nearly evening. Will you join me for dinner?" she asked.

Buffy shook her head, her blonde braid swinging from side to side, "Nah. I'm gonna take a walk for a while to clear my head. I'll snag Legolas away from his maps and reports and we'll go to Cerin Amroth. He says he can see Mirkwood from there so it should cheer him up a bit."

If only she had known it would turn out to be the opposite…

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Cerin Amroth, Lothlórien, 2980, TA, the season of Lairë (Summer). The Eve of Midsummer.

And on the evening of Midsummer Aragorn Arathorn's son and Arwen daughter of Elrond went to the fair hill Cerin Amroth, in the midst of the land, and they walked unshod on the undying grass with elanor and nipredhil about their feet. And there upon the hill they looked east towards the Shadow and west to the Twilight, and they plighted their troth and were glad. - From 'The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen', the appendixes of the Lord of the Rings.

There they stood upon the fair hill of Cerin Amroth and their hearts beat with love and affection for the other. Aragorn held her close to him and lowered his lips to hers and their kiss was bittersweet, tinged with the longing they both held and the knowledge that whatever path they took, sacrifice and toil lay on it.

"Undómiel," he whispered as he pulled away, "I…" he trailed off as she placed a finger against his lips.

"Hush," she said, "I have seen such a future for you my Hope."

"I have seen only darkness." Aragorn said honestly.

She looked upon them then, a King of Men, and like her father before her, saw his fate to either rise to greatness above all living men and rival the greatest of his ancestors, or to fall to shadow with all that was left of his kin.

She knew that with her Hope involved, there could be only one outcome. She did not believe like her father, that the strength of Men had waned beyond repair and the living proof stood before her, and in her friend Buffy, once she thought on it.

But he did not believe in himself or his destiny. He was named to be the hope of Men but he had kept no hope for himself. She then decided that she would not speak of the doom that might await him and instead speak of the victory he could help create. And would hopefully share with her.

"Dark is the Shadow, and yet my heart rejoices; for you, Estel, shall be among the great whose valour shall destroy it." she said earnestly, hoping to buoy his hopes.

But Aragorn answered in a despair-filled voice, his expression grave, "Alas! I cannot foresee it, and how it may come to pass is hidden from me. Yet with your hope I will hope. And shadow I utterly reject. But neither, lady, is the Twilight for me; for I am mortal, and if you will cleave to me, Evenstar, then the Twilight you must also renounce."

There had come the words that she had both dreaded and longed to hear, and now she would have to make her choice: to be Aragorn's wife and choose to live as a mortal woman, or to refuse his proposal and bear away her love for him to the Undying Lands, where some of her family dwelled and where the rest would travel to when they grew weary of this world, and where their love would be forever evergreen.

But did she really love him enough to be sundered so completely from her people, her family, the mother that awaited her on the Western Shores? Elves married once and for life, but for her choosing a partner was more than just being happy with them. To choose Aragorn, was to choose a mortal life.

She could not say if her heart would let her cleave to Aragorn and Aragorn alone. She loved him, yes, but did she love him enough for so great a sacrifice?

Looking at his careworn face, she thought long and hard on his words. She was his hope against the Shadow's victory, their love with succour him on his travels. It would give him the strength he needed to face his destiny. Could she take that away from him?

Though yet unsure, her heart wavering, she knew that 'twould be many years of men ere Aragorn regained his throne and was free to wed her. Such years would enable her to truly see her heart's desire. 'Twould be easy to sail West if she had chanced such love and lost, rather than bear away nothing more than a memory and a chance given and lost.

She turned her gaze to the west, home of her kindred, and knew what she must do, both for herself and her blossoming love, and for the future of Middle Earth.

Still gazing in the direction of Aman, she spoke at last, "I will cleave to you, Dúnadan, and turn from the Twilight. Yet there lies the land of my people and the long home of all my kin."

Aragorn's face lit up with a joyous smile and he nearly crushed her with the force of his embrace. Even as he showered her with kisses, a warning came to her heart, and she resolved to seek out her grandmother ere too long had passed.

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Cerin Amroth, Lothlórien, 2980, TA, the season of Lairë (Summer). The Eve of Midsummer.

  
  
Buffy and Legolas had enjoyed a peaceful walk to the hill, both of them resolving to be cheerful and playful and they happily bantered back and forth until Buffy's Buffydar kicked in and she knew Aragorn was close.

Moving forward with all the stealth of the most skilled hunters, the duo espied Aragorn and Arwen in a passionate embrace upon the top of the hill.

His fingers were entwined in her dark hair, her hands were clasped behind his neck.

And it was one of the single most painful things either slayer or Elf had borne witness to.

But worse was to come and even as Buffy felt her heart breaking, and Legolas paled to a ghostly colour, the couple pledged their troth before their unknown witnesses.

"I will cleave to you, Dúnadan, and turn from the Twilight. Yet there lies the land of my people and the long home of all my kin." Arwen said and Buffy could not bear to see any more of Aragorn's exultation at his beloved's answer.

Even as she turned and fled with tears streaming down her cheeks, her devastated hazel eyes met a matching pair of silver-blue. Grief lined the prince's ageless face and though she wanted to comfort him, she knew not the words to say and so as quietly as she could, she ran back to Caras Galadhon and the safety of her talan.

For his part, Legolas was surprised by the amount of pain he saw in Buffy's face. She had known Aragorn but a decade whereas he had known Arwen since he was a child. But the slayer looked like someone who had stomached all they could take of pain, and then some.

His sharp eyes easily making out the details of the kissing couple, he felt the familiar pain his own heart ignite. It would seem the very fates had conspired against him. His father had made enemies of many Elves whose aid would have been useful; his mother had been slain by orcs; his realm was barely holding back the shadow that threatened to consume it; a war was about to erupt that would probably decimate them all; and one of his best friends was to be wed to the woman he loved.

Yes, he could sympathise with Buffy.

He too knew what it was to have to smile through one's heartbreak.

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That night while Galadriel and Celeborn presided over the necessary celebrations with brittle smiles and hidden sorrow in their every movement, Buffy and Legolas were forced to congratulate the happy couple, along with a multitude of other Elves that seemed to be trying to bore holes in Aragorn with their eyes for dooming their beloved Evenstar to a mortal death.

Buffy sat through the feast with a pasted on smile and a pounding headache that was threatening to turn into a migraine with a difference. And so when she felt that it would _finally _be okay to leave, she made her excuses and retreated to the privacy of her talan, where if she couldn't beat a training dummy into oblivion, she could at least cry herself to sleep in peace.

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Buffy at last fell into a restless sleep, where she had weird versions of nightmares centring around the wedding of Arwen and Aragorn, where Arwen was somehow dressed up as Faith, Aragorn was doing a damn good impression of Caleb, Legolas was in Watcher issued tweed, Elrond and Galadriel looked like Spike and Drusilla wannabes and Celeborn was doing a tango with Willow in the Bronze.

Needless to say she was a little freaked out and to try and ensure she got some sleep that night, she mixed some sleeping herbs into her water and drank deeply.

The following day, she would wish she hadn't.

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((((((( _Buffy walked along a stone corridor, clutching a sword to her. Looking down at herself, she realised that she was wearing armour that made her look like something from 'Xena: Warrior Princess' but as she approached the thick wooden door at the end, her clothes changed._

She was now wearing a fine gown of a wine colour with silver thread. Puzzled at the change, she at last just shrugged, if this was some kind of weird slayer dream there was nothing to do but follow where it led. And at lest she wouldn't have to see Elrond with a platinum 'Billy Idol' look!

She opened the door and stopped to look in wonder at the scene she had walked in on.

A dark-haired little boy, maybe about six or seven, was playing with a tall man whom she recognised as Aragorn. "Ada! Ada! Look!" the boy squealed as he played with his toys and Buffy gasped with shock.

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This boy was Aragorn's son?!

"Eldarion! Do not overtire your poor Adar! (father)" a voice said, giving the slayer another shock when a dark haired woman entered the room, though really, with the way this thing was going, she shouldn't have been surprised. Arwen, Aragorn and their son… Yep, somebody just hated little ol' Buffy, she thought bitterly, wasn't it enough that she had to witness it in real life without seeing them playing happy families in their sleep?

The little boy turned to face her, his voice raised plaintively, "But naneth…" (mother) **)))))))**

And in her bed, Buffy shot upright, finally having fought free from the herbs that left her drowsy still.

Buffy clutched her pillow to her for comfort and thought on what she had seen. Arwen and Aragorn's son… that meant there really was no hope. They would marry, have kids… No room for Buffy there.

The time of pining for Aragorn was over, she thought decisively, it would only set her up for more heartbreak if she persisted in it. Well, that would be simple, let's become as bitchy as Cordelia, as heartless as the First and she just might manage to stop loving him, a sarcastic little voice pointed out.

She should have just done a Willow, and become a lesbian, she grouched. It would have been a lot easier in the long run? Who needed men?

It would have been easier to convince herself of that if that little voice hadn't pointed out that she wasn't interested in men, plural, but one man in particular.

It seemed to ignore the fact that that man was marrying someone else.

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Buffy had an unexpected visitor in her talan when she woke up from her latest fitful doze. Rubbing eyes bleary from a night of tears, she saw Galadriel sitting calmly on the foot of her bed.

Galadriel seemed to already know what ailed her, and Buffy felt grateful that she didn't have to explain her extremely bruised and raw feelings to the Lady of the Wood.

"I know how hard it was for you." Galadriel said, speaking of the night before.

"I really doubt that." Buffy said brokenly, "You kept telling me to hope, you said that I had bonded him _my_ husband but he's marrying Arwen and I'm left high and dry."

"Hope yet remains," the Elf-lady said, "The future is not set in stone."

"It might as well be," Buffy said, her tears re-emerging to her horror, "I saw their child Galadriel! Their son! I think that makes it set in stone."

Galadriel looked taken aback, a rarity in anyone's experience, "Their son?" she whispered in shock, "Are you sure?"

"He called them Adar (father) and Naneth (mother). Yes, I'm sure." Buffy snapped, before dissolving into tears. "Why did it have to be him?!"

Galadriel wrapped her arms around her like one would a child, gently imparting comfort. "Shh, Buffy," she soothed, "You cannot give in to despair."

"Why the hell not?!" Buffy said through her sobs, "All I ever get is pain, and loneliness and betrayal! Why should I care any more?!"

"Because it is not like you to give up for anything," Galadriel said firmly, "Such behaviour does not belong to the Buffy I know."

Hazel eyes dulled with pain bored into luminous blue, "Everybody has a breaking point Galadriel. Everybody."

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But Buffy's mood improved under Galadriel's tender care and soon, she felt more like herself, if still stuck in a totally miserable frame of mind. But today, she was hanging out with a nearly equally depressed Legolas, who tried to hide the purple shadows under his eyes rather unsuccessfully.

"Are you alright? You look rather beat up." Legolas asked in concern.

"Minimal damage of the fighting kind. It's all the other kind. I presume you have the same war wounds?"

Legolas smiled wanly, "Aye Dagnir (slayer), 'tis hard to bear looking at them."

"Totally agreeing with you on that," Buffy muttered, "They're off mooning around like Romeo and Juliet and we're stuck moping."

Legolas shot her a puzzled look, "Romeo and Juliet?"

"Star-crossed lovers. Never mind!" Buffy dismissed, "How the hell are we going to get through this?"

"I leave for my homeland tomorrow," Legolas said quietly, "I cannot linger here and watch them together any longer."

"Lucky you," Buffy said, "Maybe it's time for me to clear out as well."

"But you love your stays in the Golden Wood." Legolas pointed out.

"I used to," Buffy said sadly, "But I can't watch Arwen and Aragorn do the lovey-dovey thing either. If I have to watch them for much longer and pretend to be happy for them, heads are gonna roll. And with the way I'm feeling, you know, the one he likes as a _sister_, it'll probably be Aragorn's."

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The Mirror Grove, Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 2980 TA, in the month of Urimë (August).

After Buffy, Aragorn and Legolas had all left the realm of the Golden Wood, Arwen sought out her grandmother for some much needed counsel.

She had had a disturbing vision when she pledged her troth and needed her grandmother's advice to see what she should do.

As if knowing her intentions, though Arwen had to admit that she probably had, Galadriel was waiting for her by her Mirror.

"Man lu vin achenitham? (When will we see each other again?)" Arwen asked immediately.

Galadriel cocked her head slightly, "Even the wisest cannot say," she answered, "It all depends on the paths you both choose."

Arwen nodded, it was as she had expected. "My foresight came to me when we were pledging our troth. Daernaneth (grandmother), why did I see another women in his life?"

The Lady of the Wood turned away from her, "That I cannot say either. Will you look in my mirror?"

"Will it tell me why?" Arwen demanded.

"I know not. But it may help clear the confusion in your heart."

Arwen nervously stepped up to the mirror. It was as a two-pronged blade; what it showed could be both heartening and painful. The water swirled as she looked in and long did she stare into its surface, seeing images of places, of people, of destinies as of yet unfulfilled.

Stepping away with a hurt expression, she rounded on her mother's mother, "Min lû pennich nin i aur hen telitha. (You told me once that this day would come.)" Arwen said angrily, "When my test would be appointed and that the fate of Middle Earth could ride on my choice. You did not tell me of the other."

"What good would it have done?" Galadriel answered, "You own his heart, as he owns yours. You would not have appreciated my interference."

"But I do _not_ own his heart!" Arwen cried, "That is the problem! It is not wholly mine!"

"And yours is wholly his?" Galadriel asked knowingly, seeing Arwen flush at her words. "What is to come in the future is out of your hands, nín Undómiel (my Evenstar). In the end, it will be Aragorn's choice. And you shall have to decide whether what you have pledged is what you truly wish to hold to."

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After Arwen had left, Galadriel looked into the mirror once more.

Three paths there were, three futures that could become reality. Three paths that Arwen could walk.

But it was four people who would shape them.

She was bound not to overly interfere, lest she provoke them into choosing the wrong path, but she could not stop her heart tightening with fear when she looked into the mirror and saw the disaster that could occur, and that was waylaid by a hair's breadth.

Behind her, her husband Celeborn approached, "What bothers you, nín hervess (my wife)?"

"The future, and our Evenstar's fate." Galadriel answered, "Dark times approach Celeborn, times that may see the ending of us all."

"Can it not be stopped?" he queried, placing a comforting arm around her waist.

Her shocking blue eyes remained fixed on the mirror, "Not by us. Even the Wise cannot predict love."

"Elrond and the gwenyn have plans to change Arwen's choice. They are quite… adamant about it."

"They can plot all they want but if the hearts they seek to sway do not see the truth, then Middle Earth may be doomed. But that does not scare me half as much as some of things I have seen that will occur if Arwen chooses the wrong path. I could not protect my daughter. I do not want to loose Arwen as well."

"I think you underestimate our grandsons, Galadriel," Celeborn chided.

She shook her golden-tressed head, "Nay, I only fear that in their haste, they may destroy what they hope to create before it ever exists."

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A/N: So? What do you think?! Please READ and REVIEW!!!

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Next chapter: The repercussions of Arwen's choice… we spend some time with the Rohirrim… the Grey Pilgrim makes an appearance…. and Buffy's nightmares come to life….

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Elvish:

Lotessë - Quenya for May

Nárië - Quenya for June

Elessar - Elfstone  
Dagnir nín - my slayer

Elleth - Elf-maid

Undómiel - Evenstar

Estel - hope

Suilaid - greetings

Tinúviel - Nightingale

hir nîn - my lord

Aran o Gondor - King of Gondor

mellon nîn - my friend

Lairë - summer

meleth - love

Mellryn - plural of the Mallorn tree of Lórien, which has golden blossoms.

Man lu telithal na nin? - When will you come to me?

Neth thín. - At evendim.

Adar - father

Naneth - mother

Urimë - Quenya for August

Man lu vin achenitham? - When will we see each other again?

Min lû pennich nin i aur hen telitha. - You told me once that this day would come.

Daernaneth - grandmother

Nín Undómiel - my Evenstar

nín hervess - my wife

Gwenyn - twins

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Lúthien - Daughter of King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia. Born in the First Age. Married a mortal man and came back from the dead as a mortal after convincing Mandos with a song to release her and her love, Beren. Considered the most beautiful Elf-maid to walk Arda. Elrond's foremother.


	14. The Grave Is No Bar to My Call

FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's Notes: Thanks for all the reviews! Sorry this is late, but the site wasn't letting me log in.

p.s - sorry about the formatting but the site was acting up.

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Review responses:

Andrea35 - wow, thanks! Yes, Éomund's offer is most useful. And yes, the Witch-King doesn't fare well against blondes! I don't think ME has voodoo though! And Legolas as Xander? Scary thought there. (shudders) Thanks for all the encouragement and compliments! :)

Anna - Thanks! I don't know about you guys ever finding out what Arwen saw, at least not until a few decades have past. It's so much more fun to leave you guessing. As for Aragorn finding out he's married; eventually but he's going to be ignorant for a while yet.

Catlimere - Thanks for the super review! Good deduction on the dream but I'm confirming nothing. The matchmakers plots start to become apparent in the next chapter though, so you should see their plans soon enough! :)

ChibiChibi - Suffering? Oh boy, there's going to be plenty of that going around!

Darkseed - good psychic streak…

Dreamer Child - Yes, it was heavy on the angst. And the dream was meant to be confusing to all parties! Except me, anyway. But good deduction. Buffy _will_ be in TTT, but as to where… I can't give everything away now can I? Not with Frodo/Sam for definite. Éowyn will still fall for Aragorn, except she's got one more woman as competition. And she knows how to punch.

Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell - sorry, but Faramir's mother died when he was five, not in childbirth. But yes, Denethor is insane and cruel. And sorry again, but could I ask which fight you're going on about? Is it Denethor? And Gandalf the Magnificent arrives in this chapter! :) And full marks on your deduction. Yes, Gandalf is going to be the Giles-like figure in Buffy's life. Elrond just doesn't look old enough! And yes, Thranduil has ample reason for being in an age long snit. Thanks again for the brilliant review! :) Námarië!

Imp17 - Because if everything didn't happen to Buffy where would the fun be? Will the next chapter make you feel better?…. (Looks away and fidgets…) I'll leave that to you to decide.

Lunawolf - Remember, if you kill Arwen, then you have grieving, non Buffy-loving Aragorn as he'll be all 'it's all my fault'! Dart-throwing is perfect acceptable though.

Mari - The twins will be most mad at Aragorn for screwing up their plans. And there will be pranks galore in the future.

Meria - Actually, I got an e-mail a while back that ripped 'A light' to pieces. Very, very cruel. And it's made me want to re-write that fic, removing Isis, or else scrapping it altogether and using some of the plot for fodder for more, different stories. Sorry, but that e-mail had a bite, and a bit of a point, to it.

Ms8309 - I'm not telling…

N/A - Sorry, can't dish the dirt about Buffy's dream. She has to find out on her own. Good question about Arwen though.

Nefertare - Buffy didn't leave with Aragorn. They both left within a few days of each other but they're going opposite ways.

Pans - Finally? They're coming out twice a week nearly! Arwen didn't officially pledge her choice yet. No witnesses, no vows, Elrond's still in ME… so mortal thing won't take effect until she affirms it. No, he does not love Buffy because of the bond. And as to who he loves more? No way am I telling.

!!PlLEase!! - I promise.

polgara-5 - yes, it's gonna be B/A. eventually. Angst comes first. And thanks for the compliments! :)

Restive Nature - Thanks! yes, the misery has a point. What's the fun in just sticking them together angst-free right from the start?

RyianaT - Yeah, it's posted at TTH, but when I tried to add more chapters, they wouldn't appear as posted for some reason. Thanks for the comments! (big grin). Yeah, Aragorn won't be waking up to RL for a while. And yes, plenty of angst and stuff.

Shabopo - As for Buffy being 'too cheerful' there was a year she was in ME that I only documented in flashbacks. Not to mention when she came back from the dead due to Willow, she had to pretend she was happy not to crush her friends. With all the reminders and the Dawn baggage, Spike and the First, she never got a chance to really get past it. But when she came to ME, it's a new start for her. She doesn't have to slay. There's more than a handful of people in ME trying to kill monsters. She doesn't have to stand alone in her slayage. She isn't the last defence against evil anymore. It takes the pressure off of her. As for the ending, you'll have to wait and see.

Shimmyontherooftops - Thanks for the compliments! (blushes) And I LOVE lengthy reviews so no worries there! Thanks for taking the time to write such a long and nice review! :)

Star - Thanks for the great review! :) You're not going to be seeing Arwen's vision for a while, but it is going to play out in real life in front of her. Good analysis on the effect of relationships on the Fellowship. I have very many plans for that time, which shall typically be confusing, angsty, joyful, sad, frustrating etc. You get the picture. Yes, Buffy will be one of the catalysts for the Ar/A break-up. And sorry, it's not gonna happen soon. The beginning of the end for our star-struck couple has already begun in a way, but visible results will not appear for about 4-6 chapters. Happy reading!

Svarra - Another reader with a psychic streak? Aragorn gets his scare in two chapters! Yes, Buffy will probably be joining the Fellowship and hopefully it will be an original take on it.

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And major thanks to:

Anonymous, Batgirl Beyond, boo, Delphine Pryde, Dragonpink, DragonStar, gaul1, goldenshadows, Gregdoreza, Haley, Lady of the Wood, Little Red Rabbit, LizaGirl, Jania, loz-179, Malfeus, martinelli88, Night-Owl123, P.H Wise, ShawThang (thanks! :) ), _Tkiwi, Wild320, Zayra_

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE GRAVE IS NO BAR TO MY CALL

Fate leads the willing, and drags along the reluctant." – Seneca

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Rivendell, 2981, TA.

Aragorn's journeys in the Wilds had a brief respite at last when he returned to the land of his childhood, and home of his heart; Rivendell.

But while at all other times he had rejoiced wholeheartedly at returning to the Elven Haven, this time was tainted by the shadow of what was to come.

By now, Elrond and his household would have heard of Arwen's choice and he honestly could not say what reaction awaited him.

Questioning a strangely reticent Elladan, he found that since Elrond had learned of the choice of his only daughter, he had been silent and grave. But that night, after a day of fretting by Aragorn, Elrond sent for him.

Elrond had his back to him when Aragorn entered the study, and the sorrow that emanated from the tall form was almost visible.

Without turning around, Elrond spoke, "Arwen has bound herself in troth to you, and has pledged to choose a mortal life?" Elrond asked.

Aragorn closed the door behind him and moved closer to his foster father, "Aye, we pledged our troth on Cerin Amroth. We love each other Adar."

Elrond turned to face him, his grey eyes darkened with present and future pain, "My son, years come when hope will fade, and beyond them little is clear to me. And now a shadow lies between us. Maybe it has been appointed so, that by my loss the kingship of Men may be restored." He broke off for a moment, struggling with his grief but soldiered on.

"Therefore, though I love you, I say to you; Arwen Undómiel shall not diminish her life's grace for less cause. She shall not be the bride of any Man less than the King of both Gondor and Arnor. To me then even our victory can bring only sorrow and parting - but to you hope of joy for a while. Alas, my son! I fear that to Arwen the Doom of Men may seem hard at the ending."

"Adar, I have loved her since I first saw her. And I wish no such doom upon her. But I also could not bear to live without her love. Can you not rejoice in our happiness?"

"My heart is sorely grieved, and a doom long feared is none the easier to endure for the knowing." Elrond answered, "To know that my daughter shall never pass West with her people, shall know the sorrows and pains of old age and a death beyond the circles of the world, where I nor any other of her kin save Lúthien and Elros will ever see her again… This I cannot abide. To be happy for you is beyond me. It has taken all that I have to accept Arwen's choice."

"I am sorry that such a rift now lies between us," Aragorn said earnestly, "But I will care for her to the end of my days."

Elrond closed his eyes at the word, wondering how his youngest son could be so blind as to not see the pain he left behind him, not to see the truth of his heart.

"I hope that you feel that way in years to come Aragorn," he warned, "Because if Arwen is hurt by some folly of yours, you will be hard pressed to evade the swords that will chase you."

**end part.**

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Field of Celebrant, 2981, TA.

Sharp claws raked across her shoulder, drawing blood. Shadows surrounded her, voices echoing from the mist…

"From beneath you it devours…"

"Beware what lurks beneath the ground…. The thing beneath it, beneath you…."

"You can never hope to grasp the source of our power. But yours is right here." Buffy felt her blood dripping to the floor, gleaming wetly on dark stone….

"How do you like my darkness now?"

A solid punch knocked her to her knees, and as the voices continued to sound around her, she found herself trying to fight off some monster she couldn't see.

"We lurk below giving tribute to the old ones, awaiting that promised day when we will arise -- arise and lay waste to the world above!"

"World is what it is. We fight, we die. Wishing doesn't change that."

"I have to believe in a better world." _"Go ahead. I have to live in this one." _

A familiar cold touch caught her by the back of the neck, "Tonight, I shall walk the earth, and the stars themselves shall hide!"

"So, who do you kill for fun around here?"

"Who do you think you are?"

"I'm the one that knows how to stop them." 

She finally felt the comforting weight of a stake in her hand, but as soon as she gained the weapon, she realised it was no use against what was coming for her…

"War makes us into people we didn't know we were."

"On this side, there's no guilt, no grief. Just the hunt and the kill. And the fun!"

"Remember, fast and brutal. It's gonna be a whole new world come nightfall, don't want to weaken now."

"But you're missing the crucial point here: things fall apart, not everything can be put back together, no matter how much you want it."

"Let them fight the good fight. Someone has to fight the war."

"Tomorrow night the world's going to end. Thought you might want to know."

"I am weary, and their deaths will bring me little joy. Of course, sometimes a little is enough."

"Can't even shout, can't even cry, the gentlemen are coming by, looking in windows, knocking on doors, they need to take seven, and they might take yours. Can't call to Mom, can't say a word, you're gonna die a-screaming, but you won't be heard."

"You were destined to die! It was written!"

A shape moved from the anonymous safety of the shadows, coming into her range of vision…

"Happy hunting."

"Wish me monsters." 

A clawed hand dragged her along by her hair, "We are coming…."

Shaking, and gasping for breath, Buffy woke to find her bedroll drenched with sweat. Sitting up shakily, she tried to temper the fear that her… dream, if you could call it one, had awoken in her.

What the hell ha that been about it? It reminded her of the dream she had had before Angel became Angelus. Nothing good ever came of these things. Slayer dreams only warned of badness to come.

And by the sounds of things, lots and lots of badness was coming her way….

**end part.**

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Edoras, Rohan, 2982, TA.

"Lady Eliza?" Éomund of Eastfold uttered in disbelief.

"Hello," Buffy replied, "Long time no see."

"What business have you in Rohan, my lady?" he asked respectfully, politely not pointing out that her sudden visit to the Riddermark had surprised him a lot.

"Well, actually my name's Elliandre now, and I've come to take you up on your offer. My time in Gondor is over. I'm looking for a new challenge so I thought I might join the Riders of Rohan."

Éomund was nonplussed at her statement, "Cavalry, my lady? Are you skilled enough?"

Buffy smiled slightly, "You saw me at Umbar, yes? Riding a horse is a lot easier than swinging on ropes."

"Then I shall do my best to honour my debt to you… Elliandre," Éomund said, "But if you do not mind me asking, what brings you to the Riddermark?"

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Flashback: Lothlórien, a few weeks previously, 2982, TA.

"For a while, whilst Aragorn lingers in Imladris, you must watch over the Rohirrim. The mirror has shown me some vague forebodings that something in the Riddermark is necessary for the Free Folk of Middle Earth to survive this age."

"So I get to baby-sit the Rohirrim now?" Buffy said sarcastically, "Joy."

"Buffy, I realise that you are still hurting over what my granddaughter and your charge have unwittingly inflicted on you," Galadriel said firmly, "But deliberately being foul tempered is not the way to heal yourself of the hurt. You have a duty to perform, and a stay in a new land might just be the fresh start you need to get over your pain."

Buffy hung her head sheepishly under the chastisement, "Sorry," she said softly, "But I don't feel very 'super- girl Buffy' lately."

"In Rohan you may accomplish much, Slayer, but be careful! This I warn you! Do not use your real name. Sauron hunts for news of you. Let him find only aliases. Buffy, he must not have you."

"He won't have me," Buffy promised, "And I will do as you ask. But I doubt it's gonna be easy."

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End flashback.

Buffy smiled cheerfully at Éomund, "I just wanted a change of scenery," she said, "So do I get to join you guys?"

"You must go before Théoden King," Éomund answered, "But I see no reason for my Lord to deny one so valiant a place."

"Great," Buffy said, "Now how about we catch up before we go meet the King? 'Cos I got to tell you, you were rather impressive at Umbar. What was that thing you did with your sword….?"

**end part.**

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Meduseld, Edoras, Rohan. 2982, TA.

"Éomund tells me you come to us from the Guarded City." Théoden King said when she came before him.

"I served under the Steward Ecthelion," Buffy answered.

"Why do you not serve him still?" the horse lord asked.

"I served the father, but I had no wish to serve the son," Buffy answered succinctly, "Lord Denethor never liked me much, and I had no wish to endure his scorn when he succeeded his father."

"You are honest then, at least," Théoden said thoughtfully, "And I have heard the tales of your deeds against the Corsairs from my men many times. You shall have your place in Rohan's riders, Elliandre of Gondor, but you shall have to prove yourself worthy of it."

"That's all I ask," Buffy answered agreeably, happy that she'd gotten what she wanted.

**end part.**

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Meduseld, Edoras, Rohan, 2982 TA.

In the days that followed, Théoden King found himself entranced by the conundrum that was Elliandre of Gondor. His Queen, Elfhild, had died birthing his son Théodred four years ago and since then no woman had turned his head. Until now.

He felt a strong attraction to the woman who hailed from Gondor, but looked so akin to his people, she easily could have passed for a lady of Rohan. He knew she was not married, had no suitors or male kin, and so was entirely free for him to pursue if he so wished.

He knew she was an honourable woman, and she might make a charming mistress, or even a goodly Queen is his pursuit of her enticed him enough. Théodred was his only heir, and every King knew his duty was to make sure that their kingdom would have a living heir to succeed him.

While he had felt no compulsion to sire more children since his beloved Elfhild's death, he could not deny that Elliandre stirred him.

The woman carried herself like a noble, for all that she denied she was one, and her skills in battle had been much praised. A Shield-maiden she was considered by the Rohirrim.

And so when she was next in the Golden Hall, he decided to act on his feelings.

"Lady Elliandre," he greeted her, "May I have the pleasure of this dance?"

When Théoden approached her for a dance, Buffy was dumbstruck. This could _not_ be happening, she moaned inwardly. With one fell blow, Théoden was probably going to blow her credibility with the Riders totally out of the water. And on the other hand, offending a king was usually not a good thing.

Pasting a fake smile on her face, she let him lead her out on the dance floor. Hiding how uncomfortable she felt during the way too long dance, - didn't the musicians know any shorter songs?, - she felt no small amount of dismay when Théoden asked her to walk with him outside.

Walking for a few minutes in silence, Théoden stopped and turned to her, and Buffy hid her inward wince. Here it came…

"Lady," he said, "You are as beautiful as the dawn. I must speak bluntly, and say that you have greatly captured my interest. What say you to that?"

Buffy was mentally choking Galadriel by this time. "I'd say sorry, but I don't feel the same."

"You would deny the King?" he asked in surprise.

"To keep it short and sweet, I'm in love with somebody else," she replied, "And I'm nobody's plaything, be they king or not, so I'm gonna have to turn you down."

Théoden looked properly befuddled and Buffy wondered exactly how big the average male ego was. Buffy decided to get the hell out of dodge before he worked himself up into his kingly wrath, like his could be anything to shout about after seeing Elrond's version, and took it all out on her.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, "But I've really got to go." and then she made a, hopefully, dignified retreat, leaving a thoroughly annoyed Théoden behind her.

**end part.**

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Rivendell, 2982, TA. The season _of Hrívë (winter_)

If the first meeting of Aragorn and Elrond after Evenstar and Elfstone had pledged their troth had been fraught with much sorrow, the first meeting of Arwen and her father could be no less painful.

The Elven-Lord had waited until they had reached the privacy of his study before broaching the subject that was capable of causing him untold pain.

"Why Arwen? Why do you forsake your family for a man who you have known for only a mere season?" he asked, walking towards the window as he was unable to bear the pained look on his daughter's lovely face.

"I cannot dictate the choices of my heart," Arwen answered softly, "I feel such love for him as I have felt for no other. Though my choice is painful, I cannot live an eternity in Aman where I look back with regret for not taking such happiness as my due. Aragorn is a good man; he will face the Shadow and remain strong. Can you not accept this ada (daddy)?"

"I have accepted your choice, as I accepted by brother's," Elrond said bitterly, "But a treasured daughter is more painful to lose than a brother who always favoured the ways of Men. I have cherished you since infancy, and I am loath to explain your choice when I meet with your mother in the West."

"Ada!" Arwen cried in dismay, "'Tis not my intention to cause you grief, but it is not in me to let love pass me by when offered so freely. I love Aragorn."

"I have already told him that you will be a bride to no man less than the King of both Gondor and Arnor." the Elf-Lord said. "You are royalty. You will marry, if that is to be your choice, no heir in exile but only a King. Even then he shall gain a treasure no less dear than Lúthien was to Thingol. And no less grievous shall be our parting."

"It may take many years of Men," Arwen said, "But I shall wait until my hope returns victorious over the Shadow."

"Even if Aragorn survives the coming war, you will still be parted. If Sauron is defeated, and Aragorn made king and all that you hope for comes true, you will still have to taste the bitterness of mortality." Elrond said, using his considerable strength to project his visions unto his daughter.

Arwen gasped as the vision of her future came to her. Dressed in black, as a Queen in mourning, a veil covering her face. Before her, laid out on a tomb lay the body of Aragorn; older now, with greyed hair, and hands folded upon his chest. A crown was on his brow, the sword of Kings was in his hand, but even though he had departed the circles of the world, he matched the glory of the kings of old.

People walked around the tomb, paying their final respects but she was left there weeping. "Whether by the sword or the slow decay of time, Aragorn will die. And there will be no comfort for you. No comfort to ease the pain of his passing. He will come to death, an image of the splendour of the kings of men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world." Elrond said with certainty, "But you, my daughter, you will linger on in darkness and in doubt. As nightfall in winter that comes without a star. Here you will dwell, bound to your grief, under the fading trees, until all the world has changed and the long years of your life are utterly spent."

Now Arwen saw herself, still veiled in black, walking alone through the deserted woods of Lothlórien, the Golden Wood now still and silent, and the heart of Elvendom in Middle Earth left to fade away to myth and legend. "Arwen... there is nothing for you here, only death." he said and Arwen broke into sobs filled with sadness and fear. His heart clenching painfully, Elrond sat beside her on the couch, gently stroking her cheek.

"A im, ú-'erin veleth lîn? (Do I not also have your love?)" he asked. Arwen leaned into her father's embrace, "Gerich meleth nîn, ada. (You have my love, father)," she replied, "But so does he. No ship shall bear me to the West ere this war is won or lost. I must see this through to whatever end. However bitter." 

Elrond dropped a kiss onto her dark hair, "Then sorrowed beyond the measure of Men shall our parting be. But Arwen, do not expect me to abandon you so easily. There is still time to revoke your troth."

"I know, ada," she replied, "But that time is not yet upon us, and I would not have our years together marred by grief. You shall know the final choice of my heart when Isildur's Bane awakens once more."

**end part.**

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The Eastfold, Rohan, 2983, TA.

Buffy, assigned under Éomund's command, was stationed in the Eastfold. For the most part, nothing too exciting happened. They killed the occasional few orcs, but mostly just patrolled the land making sure everything was as it should be.

For a slayer, this was threatening to be so boring that she was longing for Mirkwood and all the little monsters it had for her to beat up.

She needed _something_ to vent her mad on. Except nothing was presenting itself for pulverisation.

Still, however boring her patrol may be, at least the people of Rohan were nice. Rowdy, way too fond of drinking games, but nice. Not to mention how easy it was to get lost in a crowd when a place looked like a veritable sea of blondes.

But the much longed for excitement came in a form she did not desire to see. When the message reached her, she seriously contemplated pretending she had never got it. But knowing the sender, he'd probably barge in, sword waving.

Feeling a renewed urge to throttle something, preferably a Dúnedain, she set off to meet Aragorn by the Mering Stream, and see what he wanted now.

**end part.**

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The Mering Stream, the Eastfold, Rohan. 2983, TA.

"Hello Aragorn," Buffy said as she dismounted, eying the ranger's camp behind him.

"Buffy," he greeted, "Thank you for coming. I am much in need of your counsel and Galadriel said that you would be here."

"What's the problem?" Buffy asked as she followed Aragorn to his fire and sat on a blanket provided for her. "'Cos you do realise that I kinda have a job here? And I don't really feel like being run out of Rohan just yet."

"Peace Buffy," Aragorn said softly, taking her hand in his, "I realise that Lady Galadriel has sent you here for some reason but I wished for the counsel of a dear friend. And though Legolas was closer, he has lately been much abroad from his father's halls, leading the patrols of the southern forest. Also, I have not seen you in two years, meldir (friend) and I missed your company."

"We both have jobs to do," Buffy said, taking back her hand, and reaching up to take off her cloak, "Jobs that can't be put off, no matter how much we'd like to."

"I know," Aragorn answered, "But my heart is uneasy and I much desire to see its concerns stilled."

"What's up Aragorn?" Buffy asked.

"'Tis Elladan and Elrohir," Aragorn said, "Ever since Arwen pledged herself to me, they have been cold. The brotherly camaraderie we shared is no more, and I know not how to remedy such a problem."

"You're dooming their only sister to a mortal death," Buffy brusquely pointed out, "They have more than a little reason to be mad with you. And those two can hold a grudge."

"I had thought that was the cause," he replied, "But I admit that I had hoped it was something else."

"Not likely," she said, noticing his drooped shoulders and careworn expression.

"Is there any way I can remedy it?" Aragorn asked quietly, "I do not want to doom Arwen to anything, but her choice is her own. I would have her sail West after I am gone, but she says that no ship would bear her hence at such a time."

"Her choice is irrevocable, Aragorn," Buffy said, "If she pledges to have a mortal life, she can't change her mind after it's done."

"But surely she could keep her life, even if she weds me!" Aragorn pleaded desperately.

Buffy shook her head, "It's not me you should be asking Aragorn," she said, "Your problems with Arwen and the twins are your own, and I can't fix them for you. I'm sorry, but I can't."

Standing up, she looked at the despondent ranger, "You have to stand on your own two feet Aragorn. I can't make your decisions for you. And I can't speak for Arwen either. This is between the two of you. And as for the twins, you have to patch up that relationship yourself as well. You and Arwen chose to be star-crossed lovers, and now you're facing the consequences. And even a slayer can't make them go away. I have to go Aragorn, and you have to sort out your problems yourself. Namárië (goodbye)."

And though it was hard to leave him in pain, the spiteful part of her felt glad he wasn't happy with dear Arwen.

If only to ease her own pain at forever being left by the sidelines.

**end part.**

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The Eastfold, Rohan, 2984, TA. The month of Nénimë (February)

Buffy was riding Fireball along the vast plains of Rohan under a clear, starry sky. Forever a night owl, she always felt hyper at night if she hadn't tired herself out during the day. And so, on most nights, she went riding to clear her mind and expend her energy.

'Twas February now, and though the days were cold, and the nights colder, Buffy didn't mind overly much. She enjoyed her quiet time, especially when it meant escaping a drinking session with a group of well on their way to being drunk Riders. She had learned that in times of peace, when they were off duty and posted in the plains, the Riders liked to see who could drink each other under the table.

And when they had enough ale and mead in them, see who could do the best dance on top of the table as well.

Her rides were usually uneventful, but on this night, Buffy felt something skitter on the edge of her slayer senses and she sat rigid in her saddle.

Something was out there.

And not of the friendly variety.

Drawing her sword from its sheath, she scanned the terrain, looking for something the likes of which she hadn't sensed since she had last been in Sunnydale.

Something demonic was stalking her. She knew it for certain. She hadn't been the Slayer for eight years for nothing. She knew it was there, and it knew she knew it was there, but it still eluded her sight.

Closing her eyes, and giving herself completely over to the hunting nature of the Slayer, she tried to pinpoint the monster with her senses alone.

Her eyes snapped open, and she dived off her horse just as a large shape emerged from the long grass with a vicious lunge. Sinking razor sharp teeth and claws into poor Fireball's flesh, it ferociously killed the horse before noticing that its other prey had evaded its jump.

As it ripped apart her faithful horse, Buffy got her first good look at the first real demon, (orcs didn't really count in her mind. They were more like vermin. And the Nazgûl were more like mean ghosty things.) that she had encountered since coming to Middle Earth.

Feeling the familiar surge of energy that always came when the slayer was ready to fight and kill, Buffy studied her opponent. Roughly about the size of a bear, it was not a pleasant sight. It looked like a cross between a werewolf and some other really huge, really ugly monster. Wicked fangs hung down from its mouth and razor-tipped claws protruded from each of it's four paws. Matted fur hid limbs that were obviously very powerful and the eerie yellow eyes shone with something Buffy never liked to see in demons; intelligence.

Smart beasties were never a good thing.

Finally finished ripping apart the animal, it turned its attention to Buffy. Snarling, it stalked towards her. Buffy readied her sword, and fell into a fighting stance. "Here ugly," she said, "Time to die now."

Bits of blood and gore dripped from crimson fangs, "Can't I ever meet a demon who at least has table manners?" Buffy said in disgust.

Instead of charging her as most demons usually did though, it started to circle around her and Buffy got the strangest feeling that this new critter was possessed of near human (or actual human) intelligence. And it was all coming to bear against her.

Without any warning, and in one fluid motion that she had to admire, it lunged for her and she wasn't quite quick enough to escape injury. Sharp claws raked down her shoulder, tearing through skin and muscle before she managed to land a solid kick on the creature which sent it flying back two feet.

Jumping back to put space between herself and it, she shifted her grasp on the sword so that it was mainly in her right hand, having been forced to compensate for her weakened left.

The monster was super-fast, faster than her she noted with chagrin, and it's blows were packing a lot of strength behind them. All of which meant badness for Buffy.

Swinging her sword in a high arc as it passed by her, she only managed to chop off its tail. Small potatoes to Buffy but the howl of pain it let out was oddly satisfying. "Now you're scared? Better late than never I suppose." she jeered.

Its response sent her flying as one of it's powerful hind legs got her in the gut. Winded, she dropped her sword and barely managed to back flip out of the way of snapping jaws.

For a while she was forced to dodge swift swipes of its claws, only partially succeeding in not being ripped to shreds. A long cut down her cheek stung fiercely and she had a matching set of claw marks on both her arms.

Eventually though she managed to grasp one paw before it dodged back, and swiftly snapped it. Using the moment of surprise to her advantage, she ducked under it as it leapt and rolling along the ground, she grabbed her sword, and flipped to her feet just as it collided with her back.

Crashing face first to the ground, she felt claws sink deep into her already injured shoulder, and she cried out in pain. Working her sword out from under her, she whacked it in the face with the hilt, and the crushing weight atop of her shifted enough for her to propel herself out.

For the first time since she had arrived in Middle Earth, she found herself in the unenviable position of the loser. And by Eru was it painful! This was almost like fighting Glory. Where the hell had this thing come from?!

Scrambling along the ground, she was levering herself up when it launched itself at her again.

On her back this time, Buffy had to fling out her hands and grasp its head to stop the snarling jaws and fangs from ripping her apart. Unfortunately that left her open to the danger of its claws, and she cried out again when they ripped open a huge gash from her ribcage to her stomach.

Removing one hand from the snapping jaws, she punched it in the gut but it only yelped and then tried to attack her even more ferociously.

Slipping a hand down to her aching thigh, she managed to snag her treasured mithril knife, and with a vicious plunge, she sank it into its stomach.

As it howled in pain, she stabbed it in the eye, and used the leverage to kick it off of her. Rolling away from it, she staggered to her knees, knowing that it wasn't dead yet. Blood loss was beginning to make her dizzy and she had the faintest suspicion that those claws of its were covered in poison, but she was the Slayer; she knew she would only be safe when it was well and truly dead.

And preferably drawn and quartered too, knowing her luck with demons.

Lurching to her feet, clutching her wounded side, she grabbed her sword from the ground, and lifting it up, wincing painfully as her shredded shoulder protested and shook warningly under the weight, she brought the blade down in one swift motion, severing the monster's spinal cord.

Another slash of the shaking sword severed its head from its body and in a frenzy, she took off all four limbs too.

Staggering away from the corpse, her sword dropped from shaking, numb fingers and she collapsed backwards onto the grass.

She had survived for now, thank the Valar. It could so easily have gone another way.

She still remembered the words from her dream…

'You were destined to die! It was written!….. you're gonna die a-screaming, but you won't be heard…. We are coming….'

Because whatever that thing was, it was an able slayer of Slayers….

**end part.**

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A/N: Well? Opinions welcome! Please READ and REVIEW!!!

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Next chapter: Gandalf brings a badly wounded slayer to the care of Elrond…. The matchmaking Elves are plotting away… and an event happens that Arwen did not foresee….

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Elvish:

Adar - father

Hrívë - winter

Ada - daddy

A im, ú-'erin veleth lîn? - Do I not also have your love?

Gerich meleth nîn, ada - You have my love, father

Meldir - friend

Nénimë - Quenya for February

Sulimë - Quenya for March  
Namárië - Quenya for goodbye.

Istar - One of the order of wizards. The plural is Istari.

Éomund of Eastfold - Chief Marshal of the Mark. Would go on to be brother-in-law to Théoden King of Rohan and father to Éomer and Éowyn.

Imladris - Rivendell

Lúthien - Daughter of King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia. Born in the First Age. Married a mortal man and came back from the dead as a mortal after convincing Mandos with a song to release her and her love, Beren. Considered the most beautiful Elf-maid to walk Arda. Elrond's foremother.

The guarded city - Minas Tirith. The city was once called 'Minis Anor' - 'Tower of the Sun' but it's name was changed when both Minas Ithil and Osgiliath fell.


	15. To Love, Honour and Betray

FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's Notes: Okay, to clear up some confusion I found _very_ prevalent… the monster is _not_ a warg. The reason why I did not specify this in the last chapter was because the explanation is given in this one! Hope that clears things up!

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P.S - As school starts up again on September 1st, updates will be slower, probably once a week, and probably two or so at holidays. Sorry in advance, but as this is an exam year for me, it's unavoidable.

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Review responses:

Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - No, they're not from TTT. It's a monster of my own invention, all to be explained in this chapter! Good deduction though.

Batgirl Beyond - Fireball died a valiant death. Plus, she was getting a little old for a horse. Queue a replacement.

BuffyandDracoLover - yes, Buffy has _no_ luck with guys!

ChibiChibi - sorry, not wargs/wolves.

Christie - Thanks! The Fellowship will be forming in about six chapters, but that's including the time Frodo healed in the House of Elrond.

Draco's Slytherin Vampiress - Welcome! And thanks! And yes, the baddies made the werewolf thing with Buffy's blood, hence the unnatural strength. And I usually update for definite at the weekends, which means Friday to Sunday.

Dreamer Child - Yes, if I had to chronicle all the thirty-four years left until the War of the Ring, this fic would end up breaking well over the one hundred chapter mark. Not to mention all the readers would die of anticipation before Aragorn and Buffy got anywhere near anything approaching a couple. And the horse died a valiant death…

EverAfter-01 - thanks! Hi boo!

Haley - No, not a warg. And yes, Gamdalf to the rescue.

Herald-Mage Brianna - considering the consequences, Elrond's reaction is always justified! :)

JeanB - Thanks! For the Elrond conversations I took most of the dialogue with Aragorn from the book, and added my own bits. And again, a lot of the Elrond/Arwen exchange came from the Return of the King movie. It was such a great scene, I couldn't resist using it! Yeah, and Buffy and Aragorn can't be joined at the hip forever, especially since Buffy might be liable to kill him if he babbles on about Arwen all day. Good call, you noticed it was _not_ a warg! Thank you!

Jennzabell - Thanks! :) Aragorn…. He'll be smacking himself when he _eventually_ wakes up! But Buffy's now letting him stand on his own two feet by not solving all his problems. And more mopey than dopey I think. And Aragorn will, again eventually, get his wake up call from an unexpected source. Of course that doesn't mean it'll be all plain sailing. (evil grin) And it was mostly thanks to you that Théoden got the part. Think of the ramifications for TTT. I'm kinda wary about giving Buffy a fling…. She hasn't had the best relationships with men, and with the recent line-up including Angel, Angelus, Parker, Riley, Spike and then the clueless Aragorn, I don't think she'll be all too eager to jump into the dating pool. At least not until Aragorn pushes her beyond all endurance. Good catch on the Éowyn factor. Well done on that and the answer is a resounding yes. The words 'bad influence' and 'Elliandre' will be tagged together for quite a while. So plenty of linkage. For the one billionth time, (nothing to with you), the monster is not a warg. And Galadriel's motivations will be explained with time.

Lady of the Wood - the dream part was a titbit for the fans of Buffy. Basically it was some famous quotes from Buffy, her friends and her enemies. I chose them all with some significance, because they're there to warn her of darkness. Slayer prophetic dreams tend to be cryptic based on the show. As for how many chapters by the end? Oh boy, that's a tough one. You see, I have it all planned out, but as I write the story, it takes on a life of its own and grows. It originally started out at about 34 chapters, at last count, it's now 42. And that's the best answer I could give at the moment. It might even end up an even 50! And soon is a relative term to Elves you know….

Liit06 - Correct on the monster. Aragorn taking care of Buffy in this chapter?… um, no. sorry. Thanks for all the compliments! :)

Lunawolf - The demon is explained in this part. I don't think Arwen is a suck-up. 'Ada' can also be translated as 'dad', probably depending on the amount of whine in the voice at the time. It's supposed to be a childhood endearment in this story, in place of the more formal adar. Yeah, Théoden will get one hell of a shock, along with some other people!

Malfeus - thanks for being such a loyal fan! :)

Mari - I LOVE to write cliffhangers! (evil grin appears)

Meria - Sorry, but I'm seriously considering scrapping ' A light'.

N/A - The 'thing' will be explained in this chapter! And you're partly right, Buffy's blood was used! The trouble with the ranger is that he doesn't realise he's tormenting her! Elrond does get to meddle in this chapter, covertly of course.

Pamie884 - Cool, but the name change threw me for a second there! :) Yes, Aragorn and Arwen, and mostly Aragorn, will continue to shove their feet in it and to make things as complicated as possible. Sorry, no warg. No, things are not happy in Buffy-land. Thanks for all the nice words!

Restive Nature - Thanks so much! Cool on the no shredding. Yes, Théoden is a momentary thing. You know, new woman in town. He goes sniffing. Gets slapped back, learns from his stupidity! Good call on the Éowyn thing… just think of the capacity for mischief and mayhem there! The quotes in her dream have significance but her slayer prophetic dreams are encompassing short term as well as long term so while she, and you, will eventually see a reason for them as the story progresses. No, not a warg. Again, thanks!

Shadow Master - awww, thanks! :D! Buffy will have an effect but sorry, Theodred has to die to let Éomer be king. Buffy will have an affect on people, and an effect that will recur in TTT, especially with a certain shield-maiden. (hint, hint) Théodred is really such an unfleshed out character and I don't have any great motivation to do so for him. But good idea though. The story will be different to the movie verse and bookverse. It's inevitable when inserting a character like Buffy, but that's all I'm saying as I have to keep you in suspense somehow, don't I? Good analysis of the situation though. And you're bang on the mark in some cases. And yes, I have been talking about sequels with my beta, and it is most likely that this will be continuing, (in another story of course) after I have finished 'First Knight'. Consider it as pretty much being a given.

ShawThang - No, not a warg. And about Buffy's reference to her eight year tour of duty as Slayer was only in context to her time spent serving as an active slayer. And especially her time on the Hellmouth. In ME, while she is still a slayer, she now co-ordinates her efforts with other people who have armies and the like, and so is more a warrior instead of demon hunter. As the demons haven't been lining up to get killed by her, (orcs not included), most of her demon experience would be concentrated in the eight years she was a slayer in her birth world. This attack has been her first major demon kill since her arrival in ME, though she will have more as the years go by and the Shadow grows stronger. And meaner. And smarter. And severely disliking petite blonde women. And to drop a hint for chapters in the near future, Buffy's sense of invincibility is going to come under severe battering. And I LOVE long reviews so don't worry! And thanks for the compliment!

Star - Thanks! :) Good call on Aragorn, he's clueless to how deep their closeness runs. Sorry, but Éowyn isn't even born yet, or Éomer for that matter! But Buffy's stay in Rohan is not yet over. She will return! Thanks for all your nice words! :)

Tomm Byrn - The timeline completely corresponds with Tolkien's timeline. Of course, it's the not well documented time only mentioned in passing or in the appendixes at the moment so that may be why some people aren't too familiar with it. While this story will encompass the War of the Ring, and therefore the LotR trilogy, it also incorporates much from the appendixes and other sources. Mainly only minor changes have been made to the timeline so it's fairly accurate with the main events; for example; Aragorn taking his leave of Gondor and the final battle with the Corsairs, Aragorn and Arwen's betrothal, Boromir's birth, etc. I also try and stick to canon in areas where Buffy doesn't mess with Tolkien's work. She's there to compliment it and improve it not take it over. I hope that answers your question! :)

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And major thanks to:

Brazen1, Charmedfanatic3000, Cristina, DarkAngelMali, Delphine Pryde, DragonStar, gaul1, goldenshadows, Kella, Jania, Ms8309, Night-Owl123, redcristal, Tkiwi, VioletHaze, Wild320,

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: TO LOVE, HONOUR AND BETRAY

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The Eastfold, Rohan, 2984, TA. The month of Nénimë (February)

Gandalf the Grey, for all his wisdom, was no less surprised than any when an arrow whizzed past his ear. He could not see the bow that had released the projectile but he knew that someone was close.

But as it had been an arrow crafted after the Elvish fashion, he was not too worried. There were few things in Middle Earth that could threaten the life of an Istar.

Holding his hands out in the universal gesture of peace, he spoke, "Would whoever is using me for target practice please desist? I mean them no harm."

A woman's voice came from amongst the long grass on the plain, "Who are you?"

"My name is Gandalf the Grey," he replied, "And who are you if I may ask?"

A blonde head peeked up from the cover of the greenery, "Mithrandir?" she asked, "Elrond's friend the wizard guy?"

"One and the same, my dear and you are?"

"Another friend of Elrond's." she answered enigmatically.

Gandalf knew of only one blonde human woman who could claim friendship with Elrond Half-Elven. "Are you by any chance a young woman named Buffy?" he asked, "I believe Elrond said you were a warrior of some renown."

The bow was lowered slowly, "I'm Buffy," she answered, "And I've heard a lot about the famous Grey Pilgrim."

"Are you not going to come out from your hiding place?" he asked with some amusement.

"I would if I could," Buffy answered painfully, "Elrond and Galadriel trust you and I'm in no position not to at the moment so here's the deal. I got hurt in a fight with a nasty; help would be appreciated."

Concerned now, as he had been fully appraised by the other ringbearers about her unique status, he swiftly walked over to her and once the barrier of the grass was removed, he had to stop himself gasping in shock at the sight of her.

The Slayer was an absolute mess, and her skin was flushed with fever, probably an infection from one of the multitude of messy wounds that had been inflicted on her.

"By Eru!" he exclaimed, "What happened to you?"

Buffy's pain-filled eyes met his, "Monster…" she choked out before she gave in to the pain wracking her and fainted.

Gandalf knelt down beside her anxiously. He knew that much was riding on this woman's life and judging by the state of her, she would not be alive for much longer unless he got her to a healer and fast.

Elrond would be the only one with the skill that could save her, and if he was to get the brave girl to the Elven-Lord, then it was time for a wizard to ask another favour of the eagles.

**xxxxxxxxx**

As quick as he could manage, Gandalf sent out a summons for Gwaihir, the Windlord, chief of all the great eagles, and then sent word to Buffy's captain, Éomund of Eastfold, as he found the sign of his house on some items on the poor slayer, saying that she had taken gravely ill and he was taking her to a skilled healer.

In the hours that he sat beside her, waiting for the eagle to come, Buffy came back to consciousness painfully.

Gandalf was leaning over her when she cracked open her eyes, wincing as the bright sunlight seared them. "How do you feel Dagnir (slayer)?" he asked with concern.

Intellectually, Buffy knew she really shouldn't be trusting someone she'd never met before but she had heard many tales about this particular wizard and knew that both Galadriel and Elrond considered him a close friend. Not to mention that she wasn't exactly in a state to take care of herself at the moment. Trusting the Istar was the only way to go to survive.

"Very crappy," she answered, "I think I've been poisoned."

Gandalf's big bushy eyebrows drew together in concentration, looking for all the world like big furry caterpillars to Buffy. "I know you are in pain, and I have nothing to remedy that with me. But I will get you to Elrond within a few days. But I must know what did this to you!"

"It's dead," Buffy replied, trying not to move and aggravate her wounds, "Some really nasty monster was hunting me. Looked like some hybrid werewolf thing. We fought, I barely won. I hacked it to little pieces. I think its claws were coated with poison. The wounds burn."

"A _Gaur_?! (Werewolf)" Gandalf repeated, "Such things have not been seen this far north in many a century."

"Well, they're back," Buffy answered. "And it nearly ate my horse. And it almost had a Buffy shish-kabob too."

Gandalf shook his head, his pointed hat wobbling precariously, "No, you say it came after you?" Buffy nodded, "Then I would say that it was sent after you, and you alone, by Sauron or one of his servants. Elrond told me that you had made an enemy of the Witch King."

"I only bruised his ego a couple of times," she said, "His mad - not my fault."

"You're dealing with forces beyond your comprehension." Gandalf warned.

"Yeah? Well it's a hobby of mine." Buffy said, wincing as the stinging wound along her ribcage decided to up the pain factor, "How exactly are we getting to Elrond? And how do I know I can trust you?" 

Gandalf's eyes had an odd glint in them as he answered, "Let me just say that our purposes in these lands are much the same. I too, was sent here by the Valar to oppose Sauron. We are comrades in arms so to speak. You need have no fear of treachery from me, Slayer, for we seek the same goals - the ending of Sauron's terror, and the unity of the Free Folk of Middle Earth."

"Okay, I'll give you that one," she replied, "But you avoided my other question."

"Why that's simple!" Gandalf said cheerfully, "You shall go by eagle."

Buffy's eyes widened comically, and if the situation had not been so dire, the wizard would have gained much amusement from the sight. "By eagle?! Tell me you didn't just say that!"

Gandalf's amused expression turned serious, "Slayer, if you do not get into Elrond's care soon, then I am afraid you will not live for much longer."

Buffy's face crumpled, "I'd kinda expected that actually," she said, "Every slayer dies young, right?"

'_You shall not die Buffy Summers,_' Galadriel's voice echoed through her mind, '_Middle Earth yet has need of you. Trust in Mithrandir, he shall not lead you astray._'

The wizard somehow knew about Galadriel's message almost before Buffy finished hearing it, and backed the Elf Lady up. "No, you shall not die. The eagles are the swiftest means of transport; you shall be in Rivendell soon and under Elrond's watchful eyes. But now you must rest slayer, for the trip will be trying with your wounds, and I shall not have Elrond skin me alive because I aided in your state of ill health!"

**xxxxxxxxx**

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Rivendell. 2984, TA. The month of Nénimë (February).

Four days later, Gandalf arrived with his precious burden. Gwaihir the Windlord had borne them hence, after Gandalf explained the possible ramifications that the young woman's death may have on Middle Earth, and the fight against the Shadow.

And so the Lord of the eagles had brought the wizard and the dangerously ailing slayer to the hidden valley.

Lord Elrond, Arwen and Erestor were waiting for them when they landed. His fellow ringbearer's face was grave, Gandalf having mind-spoke to him as they flew. Elrond came forth and barely managed to hide his surprise at the shocking state of the slayer behind the impassive mask of a healer.

Arwen, unable to hide her own distress, was terribly distraught at the sight of her dear friend and her lovely face was lined with anguish and worry. "Ai! Buffy!" she cried in dismay.

Elrond thanked the eagle for his time, and carefully lifted the wounded slayer. Having been unconscious for the last day of their flight, Buffy only moaned slightly as her wounds were jostled.

Elrond swiftly bore her into the healing halls, followed by his anxious daughter, his advisor and a most concerned wizard, who was busily filling him in on the details of her injuries.

"She said that the claws of the monster she grappled with may have been laden with poison. She mentioned that her wounds burned often." Gandalf explained hurriedly, not missing the haste with which Elrond was acting. The brave slayer's wounds were very serious to move Elrond so.

"Her shoulder is rather badly infected," he continued, as Elrond listened attentively, "It was ripped open nearly to the bone, both from the front and back. She was also nearly gutted from her ribs to her stomach, her thigh is either badly bruised or broken, and she has a multitude of abrasions that are refusing to heal. She has lost a lot of blood Elrond, too much blood in my opinion."

Elrond only nodded as the group swept into the healing wing. Laying Buffy down on one of the beds, the Elven Lord surveyed the gruesome wounds, his expression darkening with each passing minute, "She is gravely ill." he stated. "So ill that I fear she may pass on. I will do all in my power to prevent her death, but I cannot say for sure whether I can save her. Only time will tell. If the antidote to the poison does not break her fever, then she will die from it ere I ever treat her other wounds."

**xxxxxxxxx**

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The Healing Wing, the Last Homely House, Rivendell. 2984, TA. The month of Nénimë (February).

Two days later.

It had been two days since Buffy had been brought to Rivendell and if anything, her condition had deteriorated despite Elrond's best efforts. The fever still held her tight in its grip, and it remained unbroken and dangerously hot no matter what herbs were given to her to dampen it.

"I do not understand it," Elrond had said in confidence to the crafty old wizard, "Ever has she explained to me about the Slayer healing ability, and indeed she is nearly as swift to heal as one of Elf-kind, sometimes faster. I cannot fathom why this ability has not yet helped her progress."

"Does the poison impede it?" Gandalf asked.

"Nay, not to the extent I am seeing." Elrond replied, rubbing his brow in perplexion. "I just cannot place what I am seeing! This shadow should not lay itself on her. Her immunity to it is great by any measure."

"And what if that immunity were taken away?" Gandalf replied, lighting up his pipe.

Elrond just looked at him, "That could not have happened, could it?" he exclaimed, "She is the Slayer!"

"But you have told me that this is not her first encounter with the fell servants of Sauron," Gandalf answered, eyes narrowed in concentration. "Every being has a limit to the amount of abuse they can take Elrond, she is stronger by many measures, but she is nowhere near invincible."

The Elven-lord paused in thought, "But for Sauron to have been prepared for her in this way…. There is no way that he could have known she is a slayer, and most certainly not how to guard against her."

"Elrond, I could not examine the corpse of the monster your slayer dismembered, but I sensed great evil from it. It could only have been the work of the enemy. And whether he knows what she is, I cannot say, but I believe he sent that creature out either to kill her, or to test her."

"I trust your judgement Mithrandir," he replied, "But if what you say is true, it bodes ill for Buffy. If this is some new poison from the enemy, I might not be able to counter it."

"The slayer was brought here for a reason, my friend," Gandalf said, "We must trust that it is not yet her time to depart the circles of this world. She still has a purpose to fulfil."

"I hope you are right," the Elven-lord sighed, thinking of his children and their fates. "Else much more than hope for victory in battle will be lost with her. Come, I must check on her once more, and the abilities of an Istar might well be needed if what assails her is some foul concoction of the enemy."

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Locked within the confines of her own mind, Buffy found each and every one of her nightmares coming back to haunt her with a vengeance.

Each of her deaths, her near-deaths and some of the worst memories of her life had resurfaced to torment her.

And the worst thing was, that she was unable to tell if this was real or not.

But by the Valar, did it seem real!

She had to hold back her fear when she found herself back in the Master's Lair, the first place to witness her death. The Master was there too, in all his leather clad glory.

"So this is the Slayer. You're prettier than the last one." he hissed, and Buffy jumped when her clothes changed to reflect what she had worn on that fateful night. Walking backwards, she scrabbled for any weapon but could find nothing.

The Master's fangs gleamed with her blood, and she found herself powerless to resist when he shoved her, and she fell backwards into the water. To drown.

Gasping for air, she felt all of the old terror rushing back, but when she tried to pull herself out of the water, she found that the Lair had changed into something else….

Faith stood in front of her. Her fellow slayer bleeding from the stomach wound Buffy had inflicted on her. "Hey there, Killer." the dark haired girl greeted her.

"Being the Slayer is not the same as being a killer." Buffy denied, staring at the bloodied knife she still held.

"Faith, these are innocent people." she said, eyeing the spectators. Willow, Xander, Giles, the Mayor, Adam… she couldn't look at them anymore so she turned back to Faith.

"No such animal." Faith answered, "You know you're not gonna take me alive." Faith continued, reliving the to the death battle they had fought so long ago.

"That's not a problem." Buffy answered, as much on auto-pilot as everything else in this scene. Whatever was going on, it gave new meaning to the phrase 'trapped within your memories'.

"Well, look at you, all dressed up in big sister's clothes." Faith sneered, and now she was holding the knife.

"You told me I was just like you Faith. That I was only holding it in."

Faith's smile was dark, "You wanna know the deal? Human weakness. It never goes away. Even yours." Ramming the blade into Buffy's gut, she stood over the elder slayer, "Time's up B," she said, "_Your_ time's up. See you in hell B, 'cos that's where you're heading."

In front of her eyes, Faith morphed into the familiar figure of the First Slayer, the rags that clothed her swaying in a non-existent breeze.

"You cannot escape your destiny." the woman said, stalking Buffy like a wild tigress. "The Slayer does not walk in the world. You do not belong here! You belong to death!"

"I walk. I talk. I shop, I sneeze, I'm gonna be a fireman when the floods roll back. There's trees in this desert since you moved out, and I don't sleep on a bed of bones. Now leave me alone!" Buffy said, an almost replica of their conversation before.

"No .. friends… just the kill… we are… alone." The First Slayer hissed, lunging at Buffy.

"You just have to get over the whole primal power thing. You're not the source of me." Buffy said, blocking her predecessor's punch.

"Don't be so sure… You think you know. What's to come, what you are. You haven't even begun…." the primal slayer warned, "You can never hope to grasp the source of our power. But yours is right here." And the First Slayer's hand shot out, trying to rip out Buffy's heart….

"You never learn, do you? This wasn't about you. This was never about you. And you fall for it every single time!" Angelus taunted, his handsome face mocking her with every word. "No one could love you. Look at you, you're a monster. Just. Like. Me."

The First smoothly stepped out of the shadows, and though clothed in black, it wore Buffy's face. "Look, everyone's all afraid. It's just like old times. Is the little itsy bitsy slayer shaking in her boots? She should be."

"Go away," Buffy said shakily, "I took care of you. You have no power over me."

"I'm not some stupid little demon you can slay, little girl." It hissed, "I am something that you can't even conceive. The first evil. Beyond sin. Beyond death. I am the thing that darkness fears. You'll never see me, but I am everywhere. Every being, every thought, every drop of hate. And believe it or not, you're mine now."

"I destroyed you!" she cried.

"You can never destroy me! You're the reason I came back! I lurk inside of you! You have no idea what you're dealing with."

"Let me guess. Is it... Evil?" Buffy sneered right back.

"It's something you'll never understand. Your Master!" the First taunted, "You come from evil. You know this. In the end, that's all you'll ever be…."

Buffy's mom grabbed her by the hand, and Buffy staggered at the change of scene, "Open your eyes, mom. What do you think has being going on for the last two years? The fights, the weird occurrences - how many times have you washed blood out of my clothes? You still haven't figured it out?" Buffy cried against her will.

"Well, it stops now." Joyce said furiously.

"It doesn't stop! Do you think I chose to be like this? Do you know how lonely it is? How dangerous? I would love to be upstairs watching TV or gossiping about boys, or god, even studying. But I have to save the world. Again." Buffy said, near tears, "It _never _stops!"

Giles came to harass her next, blathering on about a world in which she didn't have the life expectancy of a gnat.

"World is what it is. We fight, we die. Wishing doesn't change that." Buffy said bluntly, devoid of emotion. The council's perfect mindless slayer.

"I have to believe in a better world." Giles said. "Go ahead. I have to live in this one." Buffy said. 

And from behind her, the First grabbed her by her hair, an image of a flaming lidless eye appearing before, searing her to the bone, "Yes, you do," it hissed, "You live to be mine… come to me, my servant…"

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Elrond swept into the healing halls to find two healers trying to restrain a restless Buffy. The slayer was in delirium, fighting against unseen captors, and the two Elves were having a hard time holding her down in her distress.

Going to her, the Elven-lord brought to bear all his skill in an attempt to calm her. To his relief, it worked and she calmed under his touch. Elrond gestured for Gandalf to come closer, "Something foul is at work here," he said, "Some devilry is tormenting her from within."

Gandalf did not reply until he had gotten the two lesser healers to leave. "Aye, Sauron's arm has grown long indeed. I can feel her fighting, she tries to resist the call."

"The call to what?" Elrond asked in alarm.

Gandalf studied the prone form again, "The call to his service I think," the Istar answered, "He covets her power."

"Then how do we cleanse her of the toxin? None of my tonics have worked."

Gandalf's face paled as realisation came, "Elrond! Look deeper, see what ails her! Look!"

The Elven-lord did as bid, and soon his pallor had matched the wizard's, "Ai! It's blood based. But how in Arda did they get hold of a sample?"

"The ways and methods of the Enemy are treacherous, and none can say how he works. Can you heal her now?"

"Perhaps with Vilya's strength," Elrond replied, "But it is still risky. I know not what his hold on her is. But on the other hand, she is more stubborn than the most pig-headed mule. She would not give in so easily. But if we go with this course, she may not be able to find her way back."

"Then allow her friends to be her lifeline."

Elrond took a deep breath and then nodded, "Let us pray that this works, and Sauron does not gain his enemy's death. Fetch Arwen." he ordered, and turned back to his patient to prepare for what was to come.

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As father, daughter and wizard crowded around her bedside, Buffy remained locked in torment.

Elrond said that all was ready, and as the Elven-Lord and Istar prepared to use their respective powers to flush out the poison, Arwen clasped Buffy's hand and used her own power to be as a lifeline for Buffy to follow back, "_Im Arwen. Telin le thaed. Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan na ngalad._ (I am Arwen. I've have come to help you. Hear my voice. Come back to the light.)" she said repeatedly, as her adar (father) and the wizard got to work.

Vilya glowed upon his finger as Elrond carefully laboured to flush the poison from her bloodstream. Nearby, Gandalf used his own powers to make sure that Elrond's flagrant use of one of the Three went unnoticed by the darker powers in Middle Earth, while Elladan and Elrohir guarded the entrances.

For many hours, father and daughter worked ceaselessly, Arwen gently entreating her friend back from the shadow and Elrond steadily but surely gaining victory over the stubborn poison.

At last, the light of Vilya winked out, and Elrond wearily collapsed back into a chair, "It is done," he said. "It is up to Dagnir now to pull herself back."

"She will heal though?" Arwen asked worriedly.

"Vilya has counteracted the poison that was crippling her," Elrond replied, "That means that her fever should break shortly. But her other wounds are still serious, and will require many weeks of healing until she is back to normal. But she should wake soon enough."

Arwen sighed in relief now that she was assured her friend was no longer in danger of losing her life. Leaving Buffy's bedside, she went over to her father, "Ada, you are weary. Why do you not go to bed?" she asked, "Both you and Mithrandir deserve some rest. She will need you when she wakes but until then the twins and I shall watch over her. Go!" she ordered, nudging him out of his chair with all of the authority of the Lady of Imladris.

Elrond looked at his feisty daughter, and then at the weary wizard, "Aye, we shall do that iel nín (my daughter)," he said, "Good night, and do not exhaust yourself watching over her. She is strong and should be well now. Care for yourself as well."

Arwen smiled brightly at him, "I know ada, now go rest!"

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One and a half days later, Buffy woke. At first groggy, and oblivious to Arwen and the twins' delight, she cried out in pain as she moved and her wounds ached. As memory returned to her, and she belatedly recognised the Last Homely House, and the presence of friends, she looked around for Elrond.

"Where is Elrond?" she rasped, her throat achingly dry.

Arwen held a glass of water to her lips and she drank greedily. "Elrohir is getting him," the elleth (Elf-maiden) answered, "He will be here shortly."

No sooner than she had said that than the Elf-lord in question rushed in. "Buffy," he greeted her, "It is good to see you awake mellon nín. How do you feel?"

Buffy tried to glare at him but got the impression that it was a rather feeble attempt, "I think a few mountains fell on me," she said painfully, "But unfortunately, I know better. We've got trouble, Elrond."

"Gandalf said it was a gaur (werewolf) or perhaps a draug (wolf) that attacked you," Elrond said, "Whatever it was, it was a servant of the Enemy. Probably an assassin."

"I kinda figured that. I'm not sure what it was exactly but it nearly ripped me to shreds." Buffy said, "And let's not forget to mention the poisoned claws. Plus, it was intelligent in a way most monsters aren't. To sum it up, dangerous with a capital 'D'."

"Buffy, you must not worry over it," Elrond ordered, "You nearly died Dagnir. You must focus on your recovery."

"I was afraid you were going to say something like that," Buffy said, closing her eyes, "What's the damage?"

"This deloth (abhorrence)," Elrond began, "did carry poison. We neutralised it but the resulting fever nearly killed you. Your left shoulder was sliced to the bone from both sides. You will not be able to move it for at least two weeks, and you are not going to go anywhere near a weapon for at least a month. You were nearly gutted down the middle as well, the wound is serious and you are bed bound for at least a week lest you rip the stitches. Also, your thigh is heavily bruised so walking will be painful."

Buffy winced, "Well, that's a whole bunch of good," she grumbled, "Nothing permanent I hope?"

"Not that I can foresee," Elrond replied, "But you will be quite weakened for a while. You lost a lot of blood."

"Elrond. I once got nearly drained by a vampire and I went out and blew up my school the next day. I think blood loss is the least of my worries," she pointed out. "But listen, I got these really weird dreams ages ago, and before I woke up today. And I mean weird Elrond, kinda like a warning for the nasty that nearly had me for lunch."

Elrond looked at her seriously, "I can only feel a dark shadow in my mind, Dagnir. Whatever hunted you, it had a dark purpose."

Buffy's expression matched Elrond's, "Then I guess I should be glad I killed it."

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Rivendell. 2984, TA. The month of Viressë (April)

Two months later, Buffy was mostly healed, though her shoulder and ribs still gave her trouble. After Glorfindel had burst her stitches, again, Elrond had forbidden her from sparring with anybody until she got the all clear.

But as the blonde woman lazed about in one of Rivendell's many gardens, she did not realise that the twins were plotting again….

Approaching her, the duo flopped down beside her, conveniently placing themselves so that she could not escape too easily. "Buffy," Elladan started, "We have a serious matter that we would talk with you about."

"As long as it's nothing to do with one of your pranks or schemes, fine," she answered, glaring at the elder twin, "I don't like being chased by angry stable hands."

"Buffy, you know you're as a sister to us," Elrohir said, and warning bells went off in Buffy's head.

"Okay, what do you want?" she demanded, "I'm not falling for one of your tricks guys!"

Elladan clasped her arm, seeing Elrohir do the same on his side, "Walk with us meldiren," he said, gently pulling Buffy up.

"We wish to ask you about love." Elrohir said.

"What? Found an elleth you like, Elf-knight?" Buffy teased.

"No, we wished to know if you had found love, dagnir," Elladan replied.

"Say with Aragorn?" Elrohir continued.

Buffy gasped in surprise and tried to jerk out of their grasp but they just tightened their grip on her arms. And mentally hearing Elrond's lecture about busting her stitches again due to throwing Elves around (cough, Glorfindel), she subsided into the twins' grip. "I don't know what you're going on about," she denied firmly.

"We saw you two in Gondor," Elrohir said, "We know you are in love with Estel, and we think he may yet returns such feelings."

"And he loves Arwen, remember?" she growled, trying to loosen the twins' hold.

"We know that," Elladan said.

"As we have been dreading it for years," Elrohir continued,

"Of course we know that," Elladan finished, "But we would not see Arwen waste her life on a mortal whose heart she does not own."

"Aragorn's head over heels for her," Buffy pointed out.

"No, he's not," Elladan denied, "He only thinks he is."

"We think he loves you." Elrohir said. "But is as blind as a bat from Mordor. We would see you as his wife, not Undómiel, both for her happiness and your own."

"You're dreaming," Buffy protested, feeling tears coming on to her horror.

"No, we are not. Adar and daernaneth all agree with us."

"Oh, so it's all a big conspiracy huh?" Buffy said furiously, the tears of rage and pain spilling over, "Make Buffy backstab her friend by trying to steal her betrothed just so Arwen doesn't lose her immortality! That's just so low! I thought you were friends, but apparently I'm just a pawn to be moved around a board! Just go away! Let me go!" she shouted heatedly, pulling out of their grasp.

"Just leave me alone!" she yelled, before turning and running across the broad expanse of grass, determined to get far away from the site of her humiliation before the two Terrors recovered from their shock.

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Celebrían's private garden, Rivendell. 2984, TA. The month of Viressë (April)

Legolas Greenleaf was once more visiting the fair valley that unknowingly held his heart. With Taur-e-Nelaedelos's (Mirkwood's) increasingly precarious position, communications with the other Elven realms was not only essential, it was survival.

Due to the fortress of Dol Guldur to the south of their realm, often his father Thranduil would have important and secret information to pass on to the other Elven rulers. Oftentimes such information was so important or secret that it could not be entrusted even to the most steadfast messengers, as the papers may be stolen on the road, and so Thranduil sent his only heir, Legolas, with such dispatches.

Legolas was also well aware of his father's other reasons for sending him out of Mirkwood frequently, but he knew better than to admit to such knowledge.

Ever since Yávien, Legolas's mother's, death, Thranduil had been increasingly eager to have Legolas spend time in more secure realms. Even though Legolas was needed to patrol the forest, he was not blind to the fact that usually at least one guard was assigned to the patrol with the overriding duty of watching his back, as a royal bodyguard of sorts.

While such measures did annoy him a little, he knew where his father was coming from and so it stopped him from chafing overly much at the restrictions. But he had to admit to himself that the open, unspoiled beauty of Rivendell was sometimes a welcome relief from the shadow infested boughs of his homeland.

As he wandered through one of his favourite places, Lady Celebrían's beautiful and peaceful garden, he was surprised to hear the sound of weeping. It was muffled, as though the person did not want to be heard, but to his sharp Elvish hearing, it was clearly audible.

He found the source curled up beneath the lone mallorn tree in the garden, brought from Lórien by Celebrían herself, golden hair askew, and weeping sadly.

"Buffy?" he asked in surprise, the last time he had seen her she had been relaxing outside, and noticeably not in a state of distress. "Mellon nín! (my friend)" he cried, dropping down beside her, "What is the matter?"

Buffy looked up at the sound of his voice, her eyes red and puffy, "They know Legolas," she stated dully.

"Who knows what?" the Elf asked.

"The twins know about my little secret about Aragorn." Buffy said, "It was horrible! Now, they'll all be with the pitying, and even worse, they're trying to get me and him together so Arwen stays immortal. Never mind the fact that it'd be betraying a close friend of mine if I tried to steal her boyfriend. Which I _wouldn't_ do."

"The gwenyn (twins) are plotting again, I take it?" Legolas said without much surprise. "Buffy, I doubt they mean to use you so outrageously. I'm sure they mean well, but in their haste to break Arwen from her troth, they failed to consider how you may feel."

Buffy wiped at the remnants of tears on her face, somewhat disgusted with herself for breaking down, "Maybe I should suggest they try to pair you and Arwen up," she joked, "You never know, they might just get it right."

"If you even breathe a word to them, I will feed you to the spiders." Legolas threatened good-naturedly, "Are you ready to return to the house now?"

"Sure," Buffy said, "I think it's time for me to threaten the twins now anyway. I wouldn't put it past them to tell Aragorn or Arwen straight out about my little problem."

"They can be subtle when they want to be," Legolas said.

Buffy laughed at that, "To get through to Aragorn they'd have to drop hints the size of mountain ranges. His brain had been on a permanent vacation to Arwen-land," she reminded him.

Legolas shrugged, "I shall take your word for it." he said agreeably.

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Later that evening, Legolas returned to Celebrían's garden to finish the walk that had been interrupted.

And so he was greatly surprised and pleased when Arwen appeared from nowhere and fell into step beside him. "Arwen," he greeted her, "What brings you here?"

"I am looking for the gwenyn (twins)," she answered, "Ada wants to see them and no one knows where they have gone."

"Well, I have not seen them today," Legolas said, "But if what I heard from other sources is right, they shall be hiding from our resident slayer."

Arwen shook her head in amusement, "What trouble did they get her into now?" she asked.

"I believe it was their own mouths that got them into such trouble," Legolas said, "Buffy does not take such insults well."

"I can imagine," Arwen said, laughing.

There, in the moonlight, its silver light shining down on the beauteous Evenstar, her lovely face lit up with laughter and those deep grey eyes shining at him, Legolas was lost.

To him, she had never looked more beautiful, and it pleased him to know that her current happiness was due to _him_, not Aragorn.

Caught in the moment, unable to summon the slightest bit of his normal restraint, he acted without thought of consequences.

In a swift movement, he pulled Arwen to him and pressed his lips to hers, capturing her mouth was his. She gasped in surprise and he took the advantage and deepened the kiss.

Slender hands pushed against his torso and with a start, he came back to himself. Pulling back, he staggered back a few steps, guilt, horror and shame welling up inside of him.

"I am so sorry, forgive me hiril nîn," he whispered shamefully, and took off into the dark of night, his head reeling with the ramifications of what he had just done.

He had betrayed his close friend Aragorn. He had assaulted the woman he loved. And had revealed feelings that he's sworn never to voice to her or her love.

Left behind in her mother's garden, Arwen brought a hand up to her abused lips in shock and wonder. Heading back to her rooms, deep in thought, she failed to notice their audience.

And from the shadows of the bushes, two identical pairs of grey eyes gleamed catlike in the dark.

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Elrond glared at his unruly sons when they burst into his chambers late that night, waking him from reverie. "What are you doing here at this hour ionnath nín (my sons)?" he demanded.

"Father, we have the most wonderful news!" Elladan exclaimed.

"Aye, adar, we have found a suitor for Arwen!" Elrohir continued.

"You mean to tell me that after four years, you barge into my rooms in the dead of night to blather about a name?!" Elrond said in disbelief, pulling a rich velvet robe around him.

"Ada, you do not understand," Elladan said, "Legolas kissed Arwen in the gardens tonight!"

"_What_?!" Elrond sputtered, "Legolas?! He did _what_ with my daughter?!"

"Think ada!" Elrohir cried, "Legolas is immortal and if he can win Arwen's heart…."

Few people remembered that Elrond Eärendilion could be just as devious, if not more so, than his diabolical sons when the need called for it. And now all that devious intelligence was coming to bear on this problem, and its solution.

Smiling broadly, he gestured for his sons to come closer, "Nín gwenyn, I believe I have a plan…" he said.

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A/N: So? Feedback always welcome and appreciated! Please READ and REVIEW!!!

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Next chapter: Aragorn visits the dark places of the world for the first time… Buffy gets in over her head… And both Aragorn and Buffy learn that even slayers aren't invulnerable…

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Elvish:

Nénimë - Quenya for February

Dagnir - slayer

gaur - werewolf

Im Arwen. Telin le thaed. Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan na ngalad. - I am Arwen. I've have come to help you. Hear my voice. Come back to the light.

Adar - father

Imladris - Rivendell

iel nín - my daughter

Elleth - Elf-maiden

mellon nín - my friend

draug - wolf

deloth - abhorrence

Viressë - Quenya for April

Meldiren - my friend

Elrohir - Elf-knight/star-rider

Undómiel - Evenstar

Daernaneth - grandmother

Mallorn - a tree of Lórien, which has golden blossoms.

Gwenyn - twins

hiril nîn - my lady  
ionnath nín - my sons

Nín gwenyn - my twins

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Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

Eärendil - Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth.

Eärendilion - means son of Eärendil in Sindarin.

Éomund of Eastfold - Chief Marshal of the Mark. Would go on to be brother-in-law to Théoden King of Rohan and father to Éomer and Éowyn.

Taur-e-Nelaedelos - The name of Mirkwood in Sindarin. It means 'Forest of the Great Fear'. This is what Greenwood the Great (Eryn Galen in Sindarin) was named after the rise of Dol Guldur.

Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

Yávien - The name of Legolas's mother and Thranduil's queen. in this story. (fictional of course). Translates to 'Autumn'. She was slaughtered by orcs who recognised her as Thranduil's Queen, and her body was dumped back in the forest for the Elven patrols to find, as a message and a warning for Thranduil.


	16. Welcome to Hard Times

FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's Notes: to clear up a few things, Aragorn was not in Rivendell in the last chapter. When he visited Buffy in Rohan, he went a-travelling, but not back to Rivendell. Sorry about the mix-up.

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Review responses:

Aimelee - Sorry, but I've never heard of those fics before.

Ally - It's Sunday, it's the weekend, here's the update….

Anna - Thanks! Aragorn's out in the Wilds. Where he's been skulking is more than apparent in this chapter. More monsters? (grins evilly) What do you think?

ChibiChibi - Thanks! Good call on Arwen!

Draco's Slytherin Vampiress - Sorry, but Aragorn is not in Rivendell. The watchers were Elladan and Elrohir. But yes, Buffy and Aragorn get plenty of quality time in the next

Chapter..

DragonStar - yes, the twins have to learn to be way more tactful.

Dreamer Child - geez, sounds like you had a hard time of it! About the mojo, it was supposed to be cryptic since it was related to the Three Elven Rings, and therefore top secret. Elrond used Vilya's power to enhance his own healing abilities and counter the poison in Buffy, while Gandalf shielded Elrond's use of Vilya from Sauron's attention. I hope that helps! And which book? C'mon! I can't tell you that as it encompasses all three. Sorry! And don't worry about the twins, everything will work itself out….

Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell - Thanks! This one's for you mellon nín! Yes, the monster was in the super beast category. And due to the extensive overuse of Buffy's lovely swan dive off the tower in relation to LotR fics and my personal dislike of Dawn, I try and keep references to it to a bare minimum. Yes, Denethor has a role to play in the future. (shakes head sadly) boy oh boy, is he in for it! Yeah, Gandalf will probably be the closest thing to a watcher she'll get. And NEVER underestimate the combined power of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. Hopefully my take on Aragorn's dark memories of Moria from FotR will be enjoyable! And my Lady?! I could get used to that! :)

goldenshadows - I don't think Arwen was expecting it either!

Haley - No, Aragorn left Rivendell for Rohan in the last chapter, remember? The next chapter… read it and you'll see what I mean!

Herald-Mage Brianna - I think Valinor will be quaking as well…

Imp17 - the tide is turning? Well, that's up to you to decide… As for the twins, they decided that the direct approach usually worked better with Buffy. - not in this case.

Jania - Thanks! You're the first to say that.

JeanB - no, it's not a werewolf like Oz. It's a werewolf-type creature, ME style. In ME, there is no 'man into wolf once a month thing'. And the Mouth of Sauron is reputed to be the best and cruellest of Sauron's servants. Do you really think he's finished?

Lady of the Wood - Thanks! And yes, Aragorn and Buffy meet each other again in the next chapter under highly unusual circumstances. Though Elrond would probably disagree….

loz-179 -Eventually…

MaLooLa - I hope my version of Arwen _isn't_ Miss Perfect! But I totally agree with you on what Aragorn feels. It's the classic star-crossed lovers thing, isn't it?

Mari - Even Buffy is going to be surprised by her extreme bad luck. Good psychic streak by the way. Something you mentioned WILL happen but not for a couple of chapters. I've had it planned for ages! (sniggers evilly) Good call though! And I don't end every chapter with a cliffhanger, do I?

Midnight - It's B/A all the way! And sorry, no Haldir loving. WAY too overdone unfortunately. Thanks for the review!

Miss Ai - Cliffhangers are always done on purpose. Most of the time anyway. As for who initiates the break-up? Three people, all working separately. Now isn't that cryptic?

Mistake I'm In - Surprise maybe?

N/A - Now, that would be telling, wouldn't it? And you get plenty of B/A action of a sort in the next part!!

Phoenix83ad - Thanks for the review! No, it wasn't an Oz-like werewolf. Buffy, Elrond and Gandalf don't really know what it was and Buffy just described what it most looked like. It's origins are meant to be cryptic, - to be explained in the future (decades). And I never liked Dawn, (she's far too whiny for my tastes), I didn't want to write any scenes including her. Also Buffy's second death was a willing sacrifice, her first was prophesied murder so I thought that fit better with the atmosphere I was trying to create. And as for your comments about the First, it's not it. But it's close. Here's a hint. In ME, the First Evil - aka, Melkor.

Restive Nature - Thanks! And your feelings of 'uh-oh' are incredibly justified. And Aragorn wasn't in Rivendell. Not to mention the 'kingly gift' thing really shouldn't be used until he actually acknowledges that he's gunning for the crown. By his own free will and without the Arwen prize at the end. Before that he's a hunter, after it, he's king. And yes, definite heaps of guilt for Legolas. But do you think Arwen's going to tell Aragorn? Thanks for the super review! :)

ShawThang - Thanks! The dreams have meaning but the answer will have to unfold slowly… sorry! Thanks so much for your lovely compliments! :)

Star - thanks! :) Yes, the twins will eventually learn tact. The excitement of having their prey within their grasp just got to be too much for them… And Aragorn has been on his travels.

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And major thanks to:

BuffyandDracoLover, Charmedfanatic3000, cilou, EverAfter-01, gaul1, immortalwizardpirateelf-fan, Lunawolf, moonbunny77, ms8309, Night-Owl123, pamie884, Queen of the Myrmidon, Wild320, zayra.

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By the way, this chapter and the next one (its continuing part) is dedicated to _Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell_, who mentioned the Moria thing to me, and sent my muse weaving plots. Eáman's question spurred me to think on what could have happened and made me write this chapter so thanks!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: WELCOME TO HARD TIMES

"By the pricking of my thumbs,  
Something wicked this way comes,  
And when sleep takes you tonight,  
Will you wake to see the light?

The burning sweat of poison tears  
The river flowing red with blood,  
The cradle robbing hand of death  
Caresses every dreaming head."

-- Bruce Dickinson, Roy Z, and Eddie Casillas, "Book of Thel"

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This chapter is set entirely in the year 2985, of the Third Age.

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Near the River Limlight, close to the Field of Celebrant, and Fangorn Forest. The month of Lotessë (May).

Buffy urged her new horse, a fine dappled grey mare called Andúnië (sunset) into a swift canter. After Elrond had finally been satisfied with her recovery, she had at last been given leave to depart from the valley once more.

She was returning to Rohan to fulfil Galadriel's cryptic request. Despite numerous attempts by both Buffy and Arwen to discern why the Lady of the Wood wanted Buffy to stay a while in the Riddermark, they had been unsuccessful in finding out anything of the Elf-Lady's reasoning.

And so a somewhat disgruntled vampire slayer was heading back to the Riddermark to play babysitter, or was it watchdog? But whichever it was, Buffy felt uneasy in Rohan now that she knew that something had been sent to hunt her down.

She had barely escaped with her life the last time round. She didn't want to lose it just yet to another monster taking advantage of the open plains to track its quarry.

And even as she thought this, she knew that as the only resident slayer, it was her responsibility to kick monsters' asses from wherever they were into the land of the freshly dead.

But enough of the morbid thoughts. God knows that the last time she'd dwelt obsessively on her all too frequent deaths, the baddies came right up to get her without her noticing.

Not this time.

No siree, this time Buffy planned on seeing them coming, and shooting them before they got within a hundred feet of her. You had to give Middle Earth its due; it was just _so_ easy to carry an entire arsenal of weapons on her person without anyone batting an eye.

She'd never been good at the James Bond 007 stealth and secret identity gig.

And at least the Rohirrim knew how to party; they really knew how to let go. Plus, their humour was so weird that it really was funny. The Rohirrim could take perverse pleasure in death-defying stunts - the more chance of death on the job, the more they liked it.

It almost reminded her of Spike actually.

Also, knowing them and their bestest buds; they'd be more happy to see her new horse than to see her. And the Valar knew, that the spirited Andúnië would love the attention and would most definitely ham it up. She had the sneaking suspicion that Glorfindel had had his eye on her horse because Erestor seemed to be smirking a bit too much when he showed her to the stables.

It turned out, that naturally, Erestor had just wanted to see the fireworks.

But again, Buffy was left only to think on possible plots, since she had yet to find any damning proof regarding the sneaking, scheming counsellor, that only Elrond had stopped impending war. She'd seen him treat the Guy Who Was Fried By A Cranky Balrog to the 'Look', the 'Eyebrow' and the patented 'Deadly Glare Number Four' for no apparent reason.

As she was mentally replaying and laughing at the image of the fuming Glorfindel prancing off and away from his glaring Lord, Buffy was jolted back to reality when felt something sear through her brain.

Falling backwards off Andúnië, and landing with a big thump on her back, she found herself floundering hopelessly as her mind and senses reeled.

It was dark. It was barely past noon and it was already dark? Buffy felt foul play working its evil right about now. Taking as an example the mayor of Sunnydale's action packed ascension to demonhood, nothing good happened when an eclipse decided to happen out of nowhere.

Staggering up, her eyes struggling to adjust to the pitch darkness, her fingers scrabbled at cold stone and Buffy started in surprise. Stone! What on earth had happened?

As her eyes kicked over to slayer night vision, she noticed that there wasn't even the tiniest sliver of light, leaving even her enhanced eyes mostly blind.

Feeling her way around to amplify her reduced sight, she realised that she was in a corridor of stone. No, not a corridor, she corrected after a moment, a tunnel or mine of some sort. There was no way a cave could occur like this naturally.

And even as she realised she was underground, she felt herself shudder with fear.

She was the Vampire Slayer. She had experienced so much evil, including the First Evil, that she'd almost become a bit desensitised to the horrors it was capable of inflicting. But now… Now she felt the presence of overpowering evil… Not overpowering as in a single strength but overpowering in the sheer numbers that she was sensing….

An army of baddies waited here, lurking, waiting to hunt the unwary and destroy them….

But what scared her was the fact that she felt that her spider sense was only sensing the tip of the iceberg. There were things here that did not sleep, that waited for their chance to come and kill…

Trying not to panic, she took a few steps and felt something tingle at the back of her mind. The Buffy-dar that she'd deliberately tried to dampen and ignore for so long was back with a vengeance, practically screaming for her attention.

Surely the Valar wouldn't be so cruel as to shove her and Aragorn into this hell hole?

But as she stumbled through the long, dark corridors of rock and stone, following where her instincts led her, she came to an abrupt standstill as another person came into view around a sharp bend.

Tall, long scraggy dark hair, dazed grey eyes….. Aragorn….

The ranger seemed just as surprised to see her as she was to see him, "Buffy?" he questioned tremulously, seeming to think she was an apparition of some sort.

"Aragorn? Where are we?" she asked.

Aragorn jerked back at hearing her voice, for some reason he seemed to be afraid of her, "In Khazad-dûm." he replied shakily, "I cannot get out, and they are coming."

"Who's coming?" Buffy asked, but she got no reply as Aragorn's eyes widened in horror and Buffy's spider sense went into overtime. Whipping around, she soon saw the cause of Aragorn's far.

Behind her on the tunnel she had travelled, a menacing orange-red glow was lighting up the murky tunnel, and Buffy winced at the sudden brightness of it. Aragorn looked at her once more, as if debating whether to reach out to her but as an arrow shot through her with ease, his eyes widened impossibly and he bolted…

And on the grassy plain of the Field of Celebrant, Buffy Summers snapped awake….

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Andúni's wet nose was prodding her as her new but faithful horse tried to help in her concern for her mistress.

Buffy flinched at the sensation as she tried to readjust to reality. What the hell had just happened? And that arrow had passed through her like she was a ghost! She had either fainted from her horse and had what was possibly the weirdest dream of her life or the Valar had decided to screw with her life a little more.

But as that tingling sensation in the back of her mind was still demanding attention and she was now inclined to give some to it.

Khazad-dûm, Aragorn had said, - the Mines of Moria. The same Mines of Moria that had seen a Dwarven colony destroyed under mysterious and scary circumstances. It had nearly as bad a reputation as the Hellmouth. And so in typical ranger boy fashion, he just had to go take a peek.

And it looked like her plans to return to Rohan would have to be put on hold until she sorted things out.

Swatting Andúnië away, she shuddered inwardly. She didn't like the idea of walking into that minefield of all.

By the Valar, why hadn't she been warned before she took this job that Aragorn was as trouble prone as Xander was with demonic girlfriends? She really was getting fed up of his capacity for mischief on her watch. Why couldn't he wait a while and torment Elladan or Elrohir? - or even better, Elrond!

Picking herself up off the ground and mounting Andúnië, she tried to temper the fear she felt at what she was about to undertake. She'd nearly died when she met the wolf-monster thingy, and that hadn't shaken her senses half as much as what she'd experienced in her fainting dream/vision thingy.

But it seemed that she would have no choice but to go and seek what lurked in the bowels of Moria…

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The East Gate of Moria in the valley of Azanulibizar, also called Nanduhirion . The month of Lotessë (May).

Don't curse darkness; light a candle. - anonymous

Buffy found herself lucky that after she had reached the Dimrill Dale, she had found the East Gate of Moria open. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, she couldn't really say but it saved her the trouble of trying to kick in a door of solid stone.

Before entering, she had decided to sort out her pack, as she had to leave Andúnië to graze the valley of Nanduhirion and trust that the mare was smart enough not to get eaten by orcs, but almost all Elvish horses were. And after digging through her pack, she had gratefully removed one of the glow-balls of the Elves. Designed by the Noldorin Elves, the glowing balls of blue light were a very popular source of light in all the Elven realms.

It had been sheer luck that one had caught her eye in Rivendell and that Arwen had given it to her. Now, it would serve her well in the dark of Moria. She hoped.

She'd had one of the Elven-smiths of Rivendell fasten a sort of harness to the glow-ball so that she could carry it while still keeping her hands free, and so he'd made her a little belt that hooked around her waist which the glow-ball could dangle from quite happily.

Another quick adjustment of her clothes to make sure that Galadriel's gift of the mithril corselet that had been her daughter Celebrían's before she sailed West, having originally been a gift from the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm to the Lady of the Wood, and Buffy was ready to go.

Gaping at the very large ominous doors that stood flung widely open, Buffy the Vampire Slayer entered the Black Chasm with more than a little trepidation.

"Well, I like the place. Not much with the view, but it's got a nice Bat Cave sort of an air to it." Buffy muttered to herself as she looked at the imposing stone pillars and lovely evil lair-ish feel to the place. It was probably like vampire heaven, or should she be saying hell?

Descending a flight of steps that led downwards into the dark as coal lower levels, Buffy ignored the sinking feeling in her stomach that told her she was doing something _very_ stupid and her overwhelmed spidey sense telling her that she could very well be walking to her next, and last, death…

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Cerin Amroth, Lothlórien. The month of Lotessë (May).

Over the years Galadriel had grown quite used to the ever more frequent flashes of premonition she received. She knew why they came; the biggest war of this age was approaching and she would have a test to pass, and would hopefully be able to guide those who had a part to play in this war to choose the right path.

That was why when this latest flash of foresight came to her, Galadriel was not so much surprised by its occurrence, but at what it told her. Surprised and horrified.

The scales had tipped in favour of the Dark Lord for the moment, and Galadriel was not sure they would change back to a more equal footing. Her vision had been most ominous, and made all the more so because it had contained images and words that Buffy had described in her nightmares.

'From beneath you it devours…' was one line that stood out, along with 'Beware what lurks beneath the ground….'.

Galadriel feared for the slayer's life, along with that of the only man who could unite the race of Men under one banner.

She had tried to warn them using mind-speak but had been unable to reach them, or even to ascertain whether they were alive or dead. They were lost in the bowels of Moria and for all her power, she could do nothing but wait to see if they returned from its depths, or were lost to them forever.

But she did not think that even the Slayer and Elfstone together could withstand Durin's Bane…

Greatly worried, she sent out an urgent summons for Haldir, her chief Marchwarden. She could do nothing but make sure her patrols watched out for them, and that they carried the message that had been sent to her…

Let the Slayer beware….

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The Mines of Moria. The month of Lotessë (May).

Hopelessly lost in the dark recesses of Moria, Aragorn son of Arathorn's situation was dire.

He had been driven into Moria through the East-Gate by a horde of orcs led by some of the Nazgûl. He knew not how many of the Nine rode with the orc troops but he had not cared to wait and find out. Especially not when he realised that the second in command Khamûl was amongst the party. Trapped in the Dimrill Dale and with no other hope to escape with his life, Aragorn had fled into the Mines of Moria, always hearing the howls of the orcs and the screeches of the Ringwraiths behind him.

Even as his foes hunted him relentlessly, he had been lost even to himself. Having no clue as to where he was going, he had plunged recklessly through tunnels and passageways, down stairs and up them, until he had become so confused and disorientated that he did not have even the slightest idea of where he could possibly be.

His desperate flight had started a week ago, and he was no closer to finding the way out than he had been since he began looking.

What was worse though, was that he had not enough provisions to sustain him for much longer. He dared not drink the water in the mines for fear it was tainted by Durin's Bane, whatever evil it was that had struck down the entire colony of Dwarves over a millennia ago.

He was running out of food and water or even a source to gather it from, he had no light to see where he was going, leaving him to stumble on blindly into the darkness, and no way out. He could not even get a decent rest. There were ghosts in Moria, malevolent things that did not sleep and seemed to have noticed his presence.

There was abundant evil in the mines. When he stopped for a break in his desperate journey, he could hear them. Hear the howls, the screeches, the thumping of many feet and the drums in the deep.

Of them all, the screeches of the Nazgûl and the drums were by far the worst.

The cry of the Ringwraiths chilled his very blood, and froze his bones. He had heard tales of men dying from fear of them, and now he knew them for truth. There were few even amongst the Eldar that could stand and face the Nine. What hope had the race of Men?

The drums were an ever present evil, constant and never-ending. The purpose of the eerie beat was to coordinate the hunt for him, he knew. The native orcs of Moria were welcoming their kindred from Dol Guldur and the Slaves of the Nine Rings, and their Master's most dangerous servants.

They would find him eventually, that he knew also. They knew how to travel these mines and would have all the exits guarded. He was but one man, and with no way to see his path and he was weakening daily.

He would die here. It was almost a certain fact.

They were coming for him, and he could not get out.

As he resumed his desperately futile attempts to find the West-Gate into Hollin, he remembered his beloved Evenstar, and mourned that she who had at last deigned to love him would lose him within five years of pledging their troth. Elrond would be happier; in her grief, Arwen would be easily persuaded to sail West, and in doing so, securing her the immortality of her people.

He hoped it was so. He loved her with all his heart and could not bear her fading for love of him. The peace of the West and her mother's embrace would soothe her, and maybe she would remember their love and look fondly back on it when she chose an Elf for her mate.

He also hoped that his dear friend Buffy was not too upset. When grieved, she was liable to take too many risky chances in battle. He had noticed this, but not yet mentioned it to her as she had been foul of mood these past few years. He dearly hoped that Galadriel would temper her, the Slayer was not meant to die yet.

It was almost a pity she was would fail in her task through no fault of her own, he mused. She had always had a tendency to take more than her fair share of the blame for anything. He had dreamed that she had been here, her golden hair looking red in firelight. It had been a strange dream but it had changed nothing. Buffy could have found her way out he was sure, but with so many foes to conquer, even she would have fallen ere the end.

And so it seemed that the Line of Isildur and Elendil was to end here, ironically so very near to the place where the Rings of Power had originally been crafted.

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Second Hall of Old Moria, on the level of the First Deep, near the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, in the Mines of Moria.

Buffy quickly crossed a thin stone bridge, wide enough for only one person and with no railings of any sort, crossing a seemingly endless black abyss.

She was being stalked. She knew it. She could feel malicious eyes boring into her, even if she could not pinpoint their location.

Walking quickly, her steady gait taking her silently across the stone pathways into a cavernous hall. It was enormous, and Buffy couldn't help but stare around in amazement. It was absolutely _huge_! The ceiling went up and up and the hall itself could easily have accommodated two football pitches! "Now _this_ beats every other cave, crypt and underground whatever I have ever been in." she whispered in wonder.

While most of it ran away into darkness, Buffy stuck out like a sore thumb with her little light. Pulling her cloak close to her body, she used it to dim the bright blue light so that it only lit up the path in front of her. This way, she wouldn't be carrying a neon sign screaming 'Intruder! Intruder! In this darkness, she'd sense them way before she saw them coming.

Along the centre of the great hall ran a double line of hugely towering pillars. As Buffy took a second glance at them she noticed that they were carved like the trunks of massive stone trees whose boughs held up the roof with lots of little stone branches functioning as rafters.

The stone was black, smooth and shiny, like obsidian and they would be strangely pretty if the whole cave place didn't scream 'Evil!'.

As she walked across the hall, keeping close to the pillars to better hide herself, she felt strangely vulnerable and isolated. The eyes didn't leave her either and they made her skin crawl.

Even though she must have traversed hundreds of evil underground lairs in her time as slayer, only the lovely fetid pit that was the Hellmouth could rival this place for sheer might on the evilness scale.

Evil reeked from its every pore, there was no tunnel, no passageway, no chamber that Buffy could pinpoint as 'safe' because proving the rumours true, there was no safe place in the dark quarry of Moria.

This was a slayer death-trap if there ever was one.

There was no way in hell that she could take on all the nasties and monsters that were in this place and survive. Talk about Mission Impossible. She couldn't even try and run because she was looking for Aragorn, which meant having to go deeper into the mines, not running out of them.

And deep in her gut she knew that if she didn't find Aragorn snappy, there wasn't going to be much chance that he'd still be alive. Let alone her.

These monsters, her stalkers, they knew where they were going, they knew where the best place to ambush a person was and they had immense safety in numbers. And she knew for definite they were there. Even if she didn't trust her senses, she had proof.

Her Elven crafted sword, now engraved and named Dagnir en Úan (Slayer of Monsters) after it's owner, was glowing blue.

Orcs were close by, but not attacking. They couldn't possibly have been more obvious if there were signs up saying 'ambush, next corridor'.

She came to an abrupt halt though when a resounding boom rolled through the hall. The sound was almost deafening, as the echoes bounced around off the stone pillars.

She identified it as a drum beat quickly, and wasn't too optimistic about its purpose either.

She sensed the movements of something in the shadows and she nocked an arrow in her bow, "Come out, come out where ever you are…" she taunted in a sing-song voice, trusting in her senses and aiming her bow where they pointed her, "Whatever beastie you are, I know you're here… And I hurt beasties." she said conversationally.

From one corner of the hall, hidden deep in shadow, came a cry and a horn-call, and Buffy launched her arrow before it could bring more of its friends to the party.

The arrow struck true, and she mentally thanked Legolas for those lessons on the finer points of archery (or learning how to better skewer the baddies as she liked to call it). A body fell with a thud onto the floor, and Buffy slung her bow across her bag and legged it.

No point sticking around when the enemy reinforcements are about to show up.

Now all she had to do was try and find Aragorn somewhere in this colossal madhouse…

Easier said than done.

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Irkat-lukhud ma  
katabrikihu  
Ulfat-atam ma  
tanakhi uduhu  
bin-nât aznân tarsisi  
  
Bazar udu agânî-furkhîn  
Gurd!  
Ma nîd sakhu!  
Ma satf unkhai!  
Atkât zatagrafizu  
Zatablugi sulluzu  
  
_No shaft of light  
Can breach it  
No breath of air  
Comes from it  
Only an endless dark rises  
Deep from the beginnings  
Of the world.  
Have fear.  
Do not look down  
Nor step too close  
The Silence will take you.  
It will swallow you whole.  
- The Abyss, from the Two Towers._

Buffy had stopped for a rest near a place that must have had at least thirty flights of stairs. Couldn't Middle Earth have invented elevators already, for cripes sake! Her, alone, trying to climb so many stairs, would be practically inviting her hidden watchers to shoot her.

Unfortunately, she didn't have much of a choice.

It was chance the stairs, or plunge into what was probably a bottomless drop. The Valar just loved her _so_ much.

It had just been _so_ much easier when the big bads were egotistical idiots who liked big speeches, well known lairs, stupid lackeys and often presented themselves on her doorstep. 'Cos having to track them down herself really sucked.

Her sword hadn't stopped glowing since she'd entered the Dimrill Dale, and she was really sick of the hidden watchers. She really didn't want to know what sort of insidious plan they had cooked up for her. Especially since the glamhoth (orcs) were cannibals. Talk about eeeugh!

Pulling her pack on, she once more trekked into the gloomy passages. Stiffening, she dived to the side even as the first black arrow whizzed by. From nowhere, her watchers had decided to appear. "Oh, this is like a nightmare." she groaned.

Comprising roughly of about forty orcs in strangely jagged shaped armour, and a lot of crudely fashioned bows, it was not exactly the welcoming party she wanted to see.

Forty orcs without bows, - yeah, she could take them. Forty orcs with armour and nice little lethal bows - no way in hell if she didn't want to be shot.

Bolting, she took off at full speed down the passageway, fully aware of the loud pounding of feet behind her and the sudden resurgence of the creepy drum-beat. It was a call to arms, she'd bet her life on it.

Unfortunately, it was looking increasingly likely that she'd already bet her life and lost as she ducked, weaved, and rolled like a madwoman to avoid the orcish arrows.

Her goal was to get to the stairs, her chest was mostly protected by her mail-shirt but the rest of her was just prime for shish-kabobing. The only advantage she'd have was speed and the knowledge that orcs were dumb.

But as Murphy's Law (which practically summed up her entire life) dictates that what can go wrong will so most definitely go wrong, things didn't work out anything like she'd hoped.

She had been running a full ten minutes, her heart pounding with fear, as she tried to lose the rabid monsters on her tail. It was just so beyond belief that they could scuttle along the walls. Were they orcs or spiders?! she thought furiously.

But her flight came to an abrupt end when the staircase she'd been hoping to reach was separated from her by a nice big chasm-like hole in the floor of the tunnel. Buffy barely screeched to a stop in time as she spotted it, and ended up swaying dangerously on its edge, arms out for balance. "Okay, despite the rat-like chill that just crawled up my spine, I'm going to say this very calmly; hellllpppp…." she muttered to herself, quoting her once friend Xander.

Unfortunately, there was no one to save her this time.

And things once more went from bad to so much worse…

As Buffy concentrated on not falling to her death, the orcs had caught up. Gasping in agony as the arrow painfully sank into the exposed flesh between her hip and where the corselet had become caught up in the ties of her tunic; the arrow had landed squarely in the only unprotected space on her side, and now bad luck had just dealt her a potentially fatal ailment.

But the arrow also had another affect….

As she instinctively doubled over in pain, her precarious balance gave way, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer's surprised scream echoed through the tunnel as she fell down the exposed shaft and fell into the bottomless dark…..

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Aragorn stopped in shock when he heard a faint echo of a scream and the sudden silencing of the orcish drum-beat. He did not know what had happened, but he dismissed it as the orcs deciding to kill some of their own. They did it often he knew, whenever they were in need of meat or when an orc annoyed one of his disgusting kindred.

Stumbling down a flight of stairs, Aragorn tripped over something in the darkness and tumbled down the remaining twenty or so stone steps.

Landing in a heap at the bottom, he got up painfully and noticed something strange.

The corridor was not cloaked in the same pitch darkness that had plagued him since he entered the mines. Instead, there seemed to be some light down the furthest passageway. Could it be that he'd found the exit at last? Or at very least some place where there was sunlight?

The air was hot down here and Aragorn sweated in his leather jacket but he dared not take it off.

Desperate to see the light, and perhaps the answer to his prayers, Aragorn ran on, trying to find its source.

Stepping into a cavernous chamber that was lit by fire, not sunlight, Aragorn's eyes were blinded by the sudden transition from near total darkness to bright light.

When they adjusted, he saw the myriad of tunnels that the Naugrim (Dwarves) had crafted when they still delved these halls. He looked around trying to see if there was any danger, and where the fire came from.

To the left, down a shadowed tunnel, came an ominous sound that Aragorn could not place.

Spinning around, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword, he hid himself in the shadows and tried to see what danger was approaching.

As it stepped into the hall, a red-orange glow filling the room as it entered, Aragorn felt a blanket of cold, blood-chilling fear settle upon him.

The creature was in clear sight of him. It seemed to be made of shadow and fire. It was more than four times the size of any man, it appeared to be of immense strength, as it practically radiated from it. The shadow about it reached out like two vast wings, at least fifty feet in length. Fire came from its nostrils as it breathed, and it held two weapons; a many thonged whining and crackling whip of pure fire, and a large sword made from the same.

For a time Aragorn was sure that his heart had stopped from fear. By Eru! Shadow and flame…. A demon of the ancient world…. Ai! A Balrog had come! Shadow and flame, Durin's Bane…. It was a Balrog of Morgoth!

The same thing that had killed Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower in Gondolin in the First Age…

He had to get out of there! He could not stand against a Balrog! Trying to hold his breath so that the demon would not hear his breathing, he waited even as sheer panic threatened to overwhelm him. This was a foe beyond him. To face it meant to come to an ugly death.

As he tried to shrink back into the shadows, the Balrog moved closer, its fiery whip swaying and crackling.

Its fiery horned head turned to look at him, easily spotting the intruder and Aragorn, knowing he was caught, took off at a dead sprint down the nearest passageway.

Behind him, the fires went out, and blank darkness fell again as the Balrog gave chase…

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**A/N:** So? Feedback please!!! Please READ and REVIEW!!!!

**P.S** - The Dwarvish song 'The Abyss' comes from the Two Towers movie, so I don't own it unfortunately.

**P.P.S ** I have apparently been nominated for the My Precious Awards, so thanks to whoever did it! Please my darling reviewers and readers, vote for me!! (bats eyelashes and dangles free Aragorns…)

It's the _2004 MPA (my precious awards for LOTR fanfiction excellence)_

The link is here: (just remove the spaces!): http : overlords . Net / MPA / mpa . htm

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PLEASE VOTE!!!!! FOR ME OF COURSE!!!

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Next chapter: The hunt resumes. Buffy and Aragorn's plight gets even more dire as they meet up and we have Durin's Bane in the guest star slot.

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Elvish:

Lotessë - Quenya for May

Andúnië - Sunset

Dagnir - slayer

En - of

Úan - monster

Glamhoth - orcs

Naugrim - Dwarves

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Azanulibizar - the valley below the East-Gate of Moria.

Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

Cerin Amroth - 'Amroth's Mound' in Sindarin.

Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

Durin's Bane - the Balrog of Moria. Killed Durin VI in 1980.

Khamûl - Ringwraith. Second only to the Witch-King. Also known as the 'Black Easterling'. Was perhaps the wraith with the strongest capability of thinking for himself but had the weakest powers during the day. In charge of Dol Guldur.

Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980.

Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

Nanduhirion - the glen about Mirrormere between the arms of the Misty Mountains into which the Great Gates of Moria opened. Translation: Dimrill Dale.

Naugrim - 'stunted ones'. Elvish term for Dwarves.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	17. Here Be Monsters Part 1

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's Notes: _ATTENTION!!!!!!! _For all those who took the link for the MPA awards from the last chapter, it has been spelt wrong thanks to my spellchecker. The CORRECT LINK is HERE: - **http : www. elvenlords . Net / MPA / mpa . htm**

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Review responses:

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alliana greenleaf halliwell - True, he didn't know there was a _live_ Balrog in Moria….

Anna - Thanks! Good call on the upcoming hi-jinks! And if I _told_ you what mischief I was going to wreak, where would be the fun? And yes, more monsters. Plenty more monsters.

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ChibiChibi - Thanks! Cliffhangers are so much fun to write! I have to keep you coming back somehow, don't I?

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Cristina - let's hear it!

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Donna8 - Thanks! And I usually update at weekends, more often at the holidays.

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Draco's Slytherin Vampiress - thanks! And too right on the poison!

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Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell - Mae govannen mellon nín! And you're welcome! And as for your question, I considered that about two months ago and his fate has been decided but I sadly can't tell you yet! (ducks thrown object) And yeah, Buffy's going through a _very_ rough patch lately! Thanks for the great, as usual, review! Namárië!

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goldenshadows - yeah, that person who invented cliffhangers does a really good job of keeping their name quiet!

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Haley - You had to ask that question didn't you? Remember Murphy's Law? Aragorn lives by it. And I think Buffy will be slightly more annoyed with the arrow…

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Hally - I am not naturally evil (I think) but I enjoy being so.

Herald-Mage Brianna - that will change…

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Irishsodabread - I do hope you get to finish it!

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Lady of the Wood - there will be some B/A action in this part, but whether it can be classed as romance, with both characters living in denial, I don't know… and yes, the Balrog makes as an appearance, this is its second time returning as a guest star in this little fic… thanks for your vote! THANK YOU! Thanks for bringing the link to my attention, apparently my spellchecker decided to get creative…

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Lunawolf - You would think so wouldn't you?

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Malfeus - you're not turning into Gollum on me are you?

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Mari - Well, this cliffhanger _was_ intentional, but then at least every story has to have one, right?

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N/A - You'll get some B/A fluff but none of the smutty variety, unfortunately! And yes, Aragorn attracts trouble like honey attracts flies.

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Phoenix83ad - Thanks! :) And I would like to take this opportunity to mention that in my evil, I warn people that I am quite evil. What did you expect? And she's the Slayer, bad things gravitate towards her. I'm only being creative in the ways that I try to kill her! As for her friends, there's still that lovely twinge of betrayal but she's kinda forgiven them mostly as it was so long ago. (This is her fifteenth year in ME.) By now, the Scoobies are fifteen years older, hopefully still living, and are people she will never see again. A grudge kinda tends to wear down over the years.

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polgara-5 - Thanks! And yes, this chapter has been written to show my take at what memories Aragorn had of Moria before FotR.

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restive nature - Thanks a bunch! Yes, your call on the 'dream' is dead on. 'out of body experience' is what I'd classify it. And no Legolas didn't encounter a Balrog before FotR. They're an endangered species in the Third Age. But he would have been able to identify them and heard all the lovely tales about them from when they were terrorising all the Elves of the First Age. Also, you are right about the Buffy plot you described. It took place in season five. And to answer your analysis of Aragorn, I firmly believe that all repeated heroes have a death wish. Most people would use the 'flight' part of the 'fight or flight' instinct when faced with impossible odds… you had a lot of really interesting ideas though. I really never thought of it that way before… you're 'uh-oh' just might be right….

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Shadow Master - well, they have to build up to the challenges in LotR yes? Ok, regarding the Dwarven colony. The original Dwarves were driven out by Mr Balrog in year 1980 of the Third Age. Over a millennia later, after the reclaiming of the Lonely Mountain (Erebor) Balin got restless and started to want to go to Moria to reclaim that. He eventually succeed in going and left Erebor in the year 2989, which is four years after this chapter. Balin's colony was then obliterated in 2994, which was five years later. So at the current point of time, there are no Dwarves in Moria to help Buffy and Aragorn. So no cavalry. And Buffy will meet Gimli for the first time in FotR.

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ShawThang - Thanks!!! Yes, I think the Glorfindel in the Third Age is also the Glorfindel that died. While Tolkien's works contradict each other, I'm of the opinion that there can't be too many golden-haired, Noldor-orientated, renowned warriors named Glorfindel from Valinor wandering around ME just for the fun of it. I believe only one of Tolkien's opinions on him; - that he came back to ME in the Second Age.

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Star - Didn't Buffy and Aragorn meet in the dream? (ducks thrown object…) And canon states in FotR that Aragorn had been in Moria before the Fellowship went, and that the memory was 'very evil'. This is just my take, thanks to one of my reviewer's posing the question and setting my muse working overtime.

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Yummy - you'd have to find me first. And then I'd have to sic Sauron on you…

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And major thanks goes to:

Gaul1, Imp17, mary4angelus, moonbunny77, ms8309, Night-Owl123, pamie884, Rain Dancer2, Sparky24, Tkiwi, Wild320, Zayra,

By the way, this chapter, the next one and the previous one (its first part) are dedicated to _Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell_, who mentioned the Moria thing to me, and sent my muse weaving plots. Eámanë's question spurred me to think on what could have happened and made me write this chapter so thanks!

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: HERE BE MONSTERS PART ONE

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The Mines of Moria. The month of Lotessë (May). 24 hours later.

There was a strange comfort in realising that you were just insane enough to dare escape attempts that had only a slight chance of working.

Hence how Aragorn had just barely managed to lose the Balrog.

Flinging himself down what appeared to be a slanting shaft for some domestic purpose, - he refused to think that it may have been a sewer, - which the Balrog had no chance of fitting into, and landed in yet another distant part of the mines.

From there, he had promptly vacated the area, half expecting the Balrog to come after him somehow.

That had been a full day ago as far as he could tell and he was now in even worse shape than he had been before; his light pack had ripped and quite a portion of his meagre supplies had been lost in his flight.

With eyes bleary from a need for sleep that he could not give in to, Aragorn stumbled along through a mazelike section of the mines, traversing passage after passage, until suddenly, he tripped over something and went sprawling.

Aragorn swore viciously as he tried to lurch to his feet but his movement was abruptly halted by a small murmur behind him.

Unsheathing his dagger from its place on his hip, Aragorn crouched low and prepared to fight whatever foe was approaching him from behind. But when he spun, he could see nor hear anyone.

Out of the corner of his eye, he picked up the faintest pinprick of light, muffled but clearly visible when he looked for it. Reaching out to its source, he picked up an object that while it still shone with a blue light, was darkened by the damage it had taken. After a moment, Aragorn identified it as a glow-ball of the Elves. What was such a thing doing in Dwarven mines?

But it at least was light. And it bore no token of imminent death unlike his last search for its elusive presence. He would take any comfort he could get.

Another sound came from behind him, this time it sounded like something moving, and using the glow ball to see his way, he cautiously went to investigate.

And when he discovered the sounds' source, he now knew how his foster father felt when he talked of experiencing near heart attacks from his children's antics.

"Am I dreaming?" he whispered in absolute shock, causing Buffy to stir when she heard his voice.

"I'm probably the wrong person to ask." she groaned painfully and opened her eyes just in time to see Aragorn nearly collapse, his face paled to a ghostly white as he realised that yes, she was indeed in Moria.

"I had a dream that you were here," Aragorn whispered, touching her to see if she was real and not just another fiction of his imagination.

"So did I," Buffy said, struggling to sit up, "It was weird. You were in trouble again, so I came here. Got chased by a few orcs and fell down a nice conveniently open hole. So how was your stay?"

Aragorn just stared at her, trying to process her double quick answer. "I feel that I should thank you." he said, "It means a lot to me that you would do something stupid like that on my account. But what by Eru were you thinking? These mines hoard death, not treasure."

Buffy scrounged up enough energy to glare, one hand involuntarily pressing against her side to try and curtail the blood flow, "Well, maybe if you didn't keep ending up in stupid, crazily dangerous and possibly suicidal situations so very, very often, I wouldn't have to come chasing after you to save your butt! You know, did you ever consider a vacation from trouble hunting? I hear the Grey Havens are lovely this time of year."

Aragorn seemed to be on the verge of one of his lectures on personal safety, which was hypocritical to say the least, but he noticed Buffy's stiff posture, and conspicuously placed hand first and all thoughts of chastisement went out of his head.

"By the Valar!" he exclaimed, noticing the arrow protruding from her side, "What happened to you?!"

"The orcs shot me. How did you think I fell down the hole?" Buffy replied, "But look at the state of you ranger boy, what did you do? Fall down a coal shaft?"

"Never mind about me," Aragorn all but growled, reaching over to inspect the wound, "What were you thinking? I have no supplies with me, and this wound is bad!"

"Well, I believe I was thinking 'oh blast, there's a great big hole that I'm tottering on,'" Buffy snapped, annoyed at his tone, "Look chill, I'm a slayer. We're built to take blows that would kill an ordinary person ten times over. Give it a few days and I'll be as right as rain."

"Give it a few days, and you shall be dead from poison," Aragorn hissed, and without warning pulled out the arrow.

Buffy gave a sharp cry of pain, "What the hell did you do that for?" she gasped, "Trying out for Sauron's House of Pain?"

She was somewhat mollified when he looked somewhat abashed, "'Twas easier to do it when you did not expect it. You would only have tensed up, and the pain would have been worse."

"I already feel like I've been hit by a speeding dragon." Buffy said,

"You are lucky to be feeling anything right now." Aragorn replied, absorbed in his task of trying to draw the poison out, "It is an ugly looking wound." he pronounced, "And there is little I can do as things stand."

"Trust me, it doesn't feel pretty either." Buffy said, "But I think you should tell me exactly why you decided hiking through the Mines of Moria, also called by the lovely happy name 'the Black Pit'?"

"I did not come here by choice: - I was driven in," Aragorn said, "I was cornered in the Dimrill Dale by the Black Riders and a legion of orcs. I had no choice but to seek refuge here but I could not find my way out again. And I still cannot."

"You know, that really sucks because I so don't know the way out either and it's not as if I can retrace my steps since I took a flying dive down a nice gaping hole. And unless you have a map you just happened to forget about it, then we're both in the same boat now."

"The situation looks dismal indeed," Aragorn agreed, "But we must find a way out, or be the next to die in these mines."

"My, aren't we cheerful?" Buffy said, staggering to her feet as Aragorn finished wrapping some cloth around her middle.

She wavered slightly as she stood and Aragorn made to catch her, but she waved him away, "I'll be fine."

"But your head…" he said, indicating her richly purpled left temple, no doubt a reminder from her impact with the stone floor.

"It's my favourite of all my bruises." Buffy said, "A nice colour I would imagine, probably looks as ugly as it feels and a rather good incentive for me to beat some things into bloody pulps. And hey, is that my glow ball?"

"Buffy, you are not well. I cannot neutralise the poison of the glamhoth (orcs) as things are," Aragorn said, reaching out to steady her as she swayed, "You cannot go on as you normally do. You will not make it to even see the daylight once more if you do not take care of yourself, or at least let me do so for you."

"Aragorn, I'm no defenceless kid and I think I get the tie-breaker on this one. I was the one on the ouch end of the arrow."

"And I have had more healer training than you," Aragorn said firmly, looping an arm around her shoulders to support her, "And if you truly think that there is a way out of here, then you shall need all your strength to find it."

"You know, I hate it when you're right," Buffy grumbled, but leaned into his embrace as her side throbbed.

Through the winding halls they walked for maybe an hour, until Aragorn at last spotted a suitable place to bed down for the night. Buffy, who was more tired than she let on, gave only token protest when he practically ordered her to rest.

"Chew on these," Aragorn said firmly, pushing the dried leaves into her hand.

"What are they?" Buffy asked.

"I need to stitch your wound ere you lose more blood than you can afford," he answered, "The leaves will drug you into a sleep where you will not feel them."

"And what happens if orcs come calling?" Buffy protested.

"Then 'twould hardly matter whether you were awake or not. The yrrch (orcs) know these halls far better than you or I can ever hope to and even if we ran, they would know how to get ahead of us. Our only hope is to remain undetected, and I believe that we are so far down into the bowels now as to be less close to their haunts."

Buffy eventually had to agree with him, and started chewing the leaves, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "I will so get you back for this one day," she slurred quietly, "Those things taste foul."

As she fell into slumber, Aragorn deftly cleaned and stitched her wound as best as he could. And when he was done, he gathered her close in his arms to warm her, and settled down to guard her sleep.

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Buffy snapped awake from a particularly vicious nightmare about Angelus's twisted crimes and the whole Acathla incident to find Aragorn cradling her gently. He was rocking her too, she noticed, and whispering soft reassurances to her.

She found that his embrace was oddly comforting. It made her feel safe, not a feeling she was used to in her line of business. Forcibly pushing away the feelings and gushy, moony thoughts that threatened to overwhelm all of her hard-pressed common sense, she focused instead on stopping the tremors that wracked her.

She didn't have these nightmares often, but every once in a while, they came back. God knows she had enough horrors in her past to be used for fodder for an entire series of horror movies. She thought that she'd dealt fairly well with the mess that was often her life, but every so often, she'd have nightmares so bad that they literally left her shaking.

Except normally, she didn't have any comfort when she woke. And she had most certainly never had let a man she'd kissed ever see her all weak, and girly like. Especially in Middle Earth. You broke a nail here and all those super chivalrous guys acted like you'd attempted to scale the Emyn Muil with a pitchfork.

"Buffy?" Aragorn asked quietly, finally noticing that she was awake, "How are you?"

He studied her carefully as she composed herself. The hazel eyes were cat-like in the dark, huge and brightly glittering, but at least her shivering was beginning to stop. She cuddled into him and he tightened his hold on her protectively.

"I'm sorry for waking you," Buffy said after a few minutes, "It's just that sometimes, in really bad situations, I kinda dream of the crappiest and scariest moments of my life. I really didn't expect it to happen now, though, and definitely not in front of you. I figured I'd put it out of my mind, you know. Taken a break. Gotten some perspective... and then wake up in the night terrified. Some slayer, aren't I?"

Aragorn hugged her tighter, "You are a wonderful slayer Buffy. Everyone is entitled to their fears. I think I shall have nightmares worthy of the work of Irmo himself about this foul place for many a long year if we survive it." He handed her his last remaining flask of miruvor, the cordial of Rivendell, "Here, take a sip of this. It will ease your chill." he said.

Buffy did, relishing the warm feeling it generated, "You're a good friend Aragorn," she said fondly, causing Aragorn's heart to jump strangely. He ignored the feeling, passing it off as just an addled brain from lack of sleep and too much cares.  
  
Strangely enough though, he slept with a lighter heart that night.

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His rest did not long go undisturbed. Whilst Buffy was securely locked into a forced sleep and did not stir, Aragorn was awoken by a growing darkness in his mind, and the ever increasing uneasiness of his heart.

The hunt was near…

Ears perked for the slightest sound, he waited with bated breath and a nervous heart to see if they had been found by the enemy.

A loud rolling boom resounded through the mines, the narrow, twisting passages of the lower levels magnifying and echoing the sound. In his arms, Buffy stirred and came fully awake as the drumbeat increased in speed and its noise grew louder.

Lifting her head from its comfortable perch on his chest, Buffy flinched as the next _boom, boom_, reached her ears. She looked at Aragorn's tense expression and sighed, "I take it that you can you hear that?" she said, "And this isn't just another nightmare?"

"Yes, but what does it mean?" Aragorn said half to her, and half to himself.

"Big trouble." Buffy answered, her mind overloaded with all the possibilities of what could go wrong in their current little mess. "Big trouble," she repeated, "And it ain't gonna be pretty."

"I think the Balrog draws near," Aragorn said with no little fear. "The air grows hot."

Buffy froze, "Balrog? As in Glorfindel's type of Balrog? Here? What is it doing after us?"

"I may have accidentally disturbed it," Aragorn answered somewhat defensively.

"More like walked right in on it," Buffy groaned, "I really can't believe you at times, Aragorn. Personally, I think Murphy's Law was made with you in mind. Honestly, you -" She trailed off as a high pitched bone chilling shriek reverberated throughout the nearby passages, but then seemed to grow further and further away until the two sole humans in the mine could breathe again.

"Aragorn? I kinda think you failed to mention that the Nazgûl followed you in!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Well, I hardly think it is necessary for me to tell you at this point," Aragorn said sarcastically, "As they are very obviously here. And hunting."

"Well, this just keeps getting better and better. Nazgûl, orcs and a Balrog, and oh yeah, no way out. I think you've really outdone yourself this time!"

Aragorn sought to soothe her ire, "Buffy, mellon nín (my friend), calm down. We must get some rest ere we try to find a way out of this maze, and working yourself up is not the way to do that. Rest Buffy, get some sleep."

Making an effort to push aside the urge to throttle him, Buffy acquiesced and settled in to resume her interrupted sleep, feeling the lingering affects of the drugs carry her away within minutes.

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About seven hours later.

When Buffy next woke, refreshed from sleep but still feeling the lingering lethargy that she knew was the poison setting to work, slowly thanks to her slayer heritage, but working nonetheless, Aragorn was already up.

As she got up, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her side, Aragorn silently handed her what could only be termed as a really pitiful portion of food. "That's it?" she asked.

"Even with your supplies added to my own scant provisions, we maybe have enough for only four days at most. And only if we ration. My pack was ripped, and a lot of my provisions were lost. Yours are in better condition, but they are few. Your pack seems to have been opened when you fell." he explained.

Buffy silently cursed Murphy's Law for its frequent intervention in her life. "Then we'd better get out of here in double quick time, huh? Or else the orcs won't have to kill us."

Aragorn didn't reply and after both had finished their meagre repast, they left to try to find the way out of this Valar forsaken place.

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After several hours of weary trekking, the duo had managed to ascend to the upper levels of Moria. Buffy had decided to take the rather risky route of using her senses to hone in on the highest concentration of evil activity from above, and used it to guide their way through the winding maze. Aragorn hadn't been pleased with the idea, but what other choice did they have?

"Look, light!" Aragorn cried, pointing into the distance, towards the furthermost tunnel entrance, but having learnt his lesson before, he made no move to go near it.

Buffy turned and her sharper eyes discerned something glowing rather brightly, moving quite fast by the tunnel entrance. She turned a cynical glare on the ranger. "We're being hunted and you're hello-ing a strange, fast-moving light in the dark?" she said, "Do you even have a survival instinct?"

Buffy chose the opposite path to the one with the strange light, but silently cursed herself when four all too familiar figures moved in the darkness. Apparently, she'd done an Aragorn and walked straight into four Nazgûl. Who were led by the Witch-King who hated her guts.

"Demons. Ah, there's something you don't see every day. Unless of course you're us." Buffy muttered, trying to grab Aragorn and backtrack.

But they had not gone more than a few feet when they heard the scrabbling sound of orcs coming from behind them. Buffy nodded in an expected defeat. Of course, nothing good could ever happen to her. Her luck only came in two forms: bad, and worse.

"I bet the death-rate really keeps the rent down." she quipped to Aragorn as she decided to deal with the major threat first.

"Hiril (Lady), no!" Aragorn cried, careful not to use her name or title, "You cannot kill these things. They are neither living nor dead! We need a plan first!"  
  
"Well, you keep working on it, I'll go kill them." Buffy said, pulling away and drawing her sword, "So who wants to party first?" she asked.

The Witch-King snarled and ordered his fellow wraiths to attack. Soon Buffy was ducking, weaving and slashing to keep abreast of the flood of nasties trying to kill them. Aragorn too was holding his own, but two to around fifty weren't great odds.

Just when Buffy was nearly backed up into the wall by a jubilant Morgul Lord, a loud, quite terrifying roar came to their ears. The passage become filled with searing heat, and a flickering orange-red glow as the Balrog came to investigate the ruckus in his abode.

Buffy gaped at the monster, suddenly feeling a hell of a lot more respect for poor Glorfindel, but noticing her enemies backing away in fear of the ancient demon of Morgoth, she took her chance to get out a bad situation.

Grabbing Aragorn's arm, she hauled him down a deserted side passage as the Nazgûl and orcs scattered, ignoring the fresh blood coming from her side.

She had never thought she would see the day when she was saved by a Balrog…

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Buffy and Aragorn ran for what must have been at good hour or two ere they paused for a rest and to catch their long disappeared breath.

Aragorn once he had regained enough breath to speak, inquired after her well being. "We were saved from certain death by an unlikely creature," he said, "But the battle before was hard. How did you fare?"

"Nothing like getting your ass kicked to make your ass hurt." Buffy replied airily, "It was most definitely not my best fight scene. And I really don't like losing, as it usually involves bucket loads of pain."

Aragorn's expression darkened at her feigned light tone; he knew her far too well to believe that she was fine. "Buffy, do not tell me that you have ripped open your stitches." he said, sounding remarkably like Elrond for a moment there.

Buffy just nodded, "Ok, I won't tell you." and turned around to take her pack off her back.

Strong arms reached for her and turned her around, forcing her downwards, "Buffy! Sit down!" Aragorn ordered, his heart clenching with concern for the wounded slayer. Examining the pouting slayer, he had to hide his shock at what he found.

Not only had she reopened the arrow wound in her side, but in a wide gash across her hip was a sword slash. It had to have been painful for her to walk at all, but she hadn't even complained once.

"Buffy, you were fighting the Nazgûl were you not?" Aragorn asked carefully.

"Yeah, the Kingy guy kept trying to gut me. It was highly annoying."

"Gut you with what?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. He had this cool, wickedly curved little dagger thingy that I would just love to have if it wasn't, you know, evil." Buffy babbled quite happily.

"Buffy Dagnir (slayer)!" Aragorn admonished, "You chastise me about my tendency for trouble but you fail to look towards yourself! Did you feel the need to compound the situation further by getting another form of poison in your bloodstream, or was it a mere mischance of your ridiculous battle plan?!"

"So I'm finding the whole getting shot very motivating." Buffy growled at him, her temper roused by his words, "And for your information mister, I normally don't get sliced and diced on purpose!"

Aragorn sighed wearily, "Buffy, the dagger you describe is a Morgul blade, forged in the Morgul Vale, with all the sorcery of the Witch-King. This is a poison much stronger than the one you received from the Witch-King's sword all that time ago. This is deadly, and few now remain on the Hither Shores with the skill to combat such an evil."

Buffy's face whitened, "I'm not much big into the whole dying thing. It's been done _way _too many times already. It's like I'm a cat with nine lives, and I've already used… let's see, about four or five. So I'm royally screwed."

"Come, I saw a small nook in one of the tunnels, probably a storage place of some kind. We can rest there while I tend to your wounds." Aragorn said, carefully looping an arm around Buffy's waist to haul her up.

But when she felt his hands go under her knees as well, as he prepared to lift her, she skewered him with a deadly glare. "Don't even think about it!" she hissed.

He ignored her death glares and scooped her up into his arms, cradling her petite form to his chest. "Buffy, you cannot walk with a Morgul wound on your hip, I know it hurts you and 'twill only get worse. I realise that you will have to walk later but not until your wound is treated. So stop acting like a child, and heed my counsel on this matter."

Buffy continued to glare at him half-heartedly, "I hope you realise that I am _so _helping the twins harass you next time you're in Rivendell?"

Aragorn chuckled as he bore her down the hall, "I'm sure that you will manage to create some horrible form of torture for me, mellon nín, (my friend) but that shall be in another time and in another place."

Buffy's head cocked to the side as her spidey sense flared, "What's that?" she demanded when she detected the faintest rumble.

Aragorn stopped and listened too, and his face went very still and grave. "I do not know," he answered, "But I think the time for flight is upon us."

But even as he ran down the hall with swift strides, the ceiling shook and the walls rumbled, and as the duo tried to reach a place of safety, the passage's support beams collapsed under its own weight, and the tunnel caved in on itself, burying with it, the resting place of the slayer and ranger….

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A/N: So? Opinions please! Please READ and REVIEW!!!!

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P.S - I have been nominated for the My Precious Awards, so thanks again to whoever did it! Please my gorgeous, darling reviewers and readers, vote for me!! (bats eyelashes and dangles free Aragorns and Legolas's…)

It's the _2004 MPA (my precious awards for LOTR fanfiction excellence)_

The link is here: (just remove the spaces!): http : www. elvenlords . Net / MPA / mpa . htm

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PLEASE VOTE!!!!! FOR ME OF COURSE!!!

Voting is from September 15th to October 15th. Please vote for me!!

Even if you don't normally review please vote!!!

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Next chapter: Aragorn learns the meaning of Noah's Ark… Aragorn strengthens something unseen… things are woken in the bowels of Moria… Galadriel frets… and a daring escape attempt is made…

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Elvish:

Lotessë - Quenya for May

Glamhoth - orcs

Yrrch- orcs

mellon nín - my friend

Hiril - lady

Dagnir - slayer

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Irmo - Vala, master of visions and dreams, commonly called Lórien from the name of his dwelling in Valinor.

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Miruvor - the cordial of the Eldar.

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Mithlond - the Grey Havens. Ruled by Círdan.

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Morgul Vale - once housed a city of Gondor called Minas Ithil 'Tower of the Moon' but was overrun by Sauron before the Last Alliance. It is now a province of Mordor that houses the Ringwraiths that do not hold Dol Guldur in Mirkwood.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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	18. Here Be Monsters Part 2

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's Notes: Thanks for all the reviews! And please, please vote for me in the 'My Precious Awards'!

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Review responses:

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Aleviel - of course I do!

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Anna - Thanks! Cliffhangers are a writer's favourite tool! And one that should be used often, and with style! Yes, you see Aragorn has feelings but he doesn't know it and Buffy doesn't know it, and because he's working his way up slowly, it's not really obvious to either one. And yes, Aragorn often doesn't understand a word she says. He finds it easier to just nod and smirk.

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Boo - Murphy's Law: what can go wrong will go wrong. Sums up things nicely doesn't it? And yes, you're detecting something from Aragorn, but as usual, he's living in la-la land. And it will take a while before Buffy's injuries override her slayer constitution.

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Cristina - I did cut the wait down didn't I? So not completely evil! And somehow, I can't see Elrond being happy for Angel… But sorry, I really can't take the challenge for several reasons. Reason number 1: I have two other BtVS/LotR crossovers that I'm working on but haven't been posted yet. And reason number 2: I hate Dawn. As well as the three Btvs/LotR x-overs, I have one charmed fic in progress as well! And I have about ten or so ideas that I'm planning to turn into fics. So I'm really too swamped to take on anything else. You see, I could try to take on everything at once, but if I do, the First Knight updates wouldn't be anywhere near as quick. It's just easier to concentrate on one main fic at a time, and let other ideas wait until I've got more time on my hands. (school sucks!a)

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Draco's Slytherin Vampiress - They have to wake up first.

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Dragonstar - No, they just can't leave well enough alone. But hey, at least there should be less orcs when the Fellowship goes there!

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Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell - Mae govannen mellon nín! And thanks for your vote! :D and yeah, poison Buffy, - not a good combination. Yes, Buffy's luck is running out _very_ quickly, but alas, there's more trouble on the horizon! As per usual! And Galadriel doesn't mean for a lot of things to happen where the terrible duo are concerned! But yes, even mountains are potential assassins when it comes to Buffy and Aragorn! Again, thanks for all your lovely comments and I really hope you enjoy the final chapter of your sequence!

goldenshadows - Thanks! And the War of the Ring sequence starts in about two to three chapters so it's not too far away!

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Irishsodabread - Dr Phil gets really repetitive after a while!

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Jennzabell - Thanks! I take it you like snuggling then? Yes, they like getting into messes! And I like putting them there! Thanks for all your wonderful compliments! Yes, this is patching up their rather strained relationship, but don't worry, our dear ranger will turn calm waters into a raging hurricane/storm before long. And here's the chapter up quickly too!

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Lady of the Wood - your wild guess is quite correct!

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Lunawolf - No, they get out. Eventually.

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Mari - should I start issuing a health warning disclaimer?

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Mary4angelus - Thanks a million! That's really great of you!

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Moonbunny77 - Buffy isn't all powerful. But Frodo lasted fourteen days with a Morgul shard in his shoulder, so the slayer would last probably a month at least before it brought her down. She's not making light of her injuries, she's just able to ignore them better than most, for a while at least.

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Pamie884 - Thanks for the review, and your vote! It's really great of you! Also, the ensuing chapters will all have a singular purpose into trying to lead up to the break up of Aragorn and Arwen. When that happens I cannot say, but the cracks are starting to show!

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Phoenix83ad - I freely admit that I'm pure evil. And I'm proud of it too! :) What's next? Hmmm, you'll just have to read on and see (runs away from rabid dogs set loose) And stubbing her big toes is just too paltry. I like my evilness to be dramatic! Full body cast… not sure they have those in ME… yes, Aragorn could be classified as something like that, if he was a woman and shrieked all the time, or was Wesley-ish from BtVS season 3. But I prefer to call him a trouble magnet, or disaster prone. And the FotR sequence starts in about two to three chapters! So we're nearly there!

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Polgara-5 - No use doing anything by halves, is there? And thank you! That means so much! You really have me blushing here!

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Restive Nature - oh my god! I hope you're ok!

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ShawThang - Thank you so much! Sadly, they will still be clueless emerging from this chapter, but as Aragorn's feelings will deepen with every catastrophe and time until someone hits him upside the head and makes him realise it!

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Star - Thanks! All comments are appreciated! And yes, Buffy isn't likely to leave herself open to ridicule courtesy of Glorfindel!

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And major thanks goes to:

Andrea, ChibiChibi, Gaul1, Haley, Imp17, Jania, Malfeus, ms8309, Night-Owl123, Philo, sparky24, Tkiwi, Wild320, Zayra,

By the way, this chapter, and the two previous ones are dedicated to _Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell_, who mentioned the Moria thing to me, and sent my muse weaving plots. Eámanë's question spurred me to think on what could have happened and made me write this chapter so thanks!

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: HERE BE MONSTERS PART TWO

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"If anything can go wrong, it will. If anything cannot go wrong, it will anyway. If there is a possibility of several things going wrong, it will happen then. If something seems to be going well, you have obviously overlooked something."

- Murphy's Law

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This chapter is set entirely in the year 2985, of the Third Age.

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Buffy angrily shoved the small stones that covered her prone form off of her, wincing at the rubble dust that had changed her blonde hair to grey and had trickled down into the wound on her hip, causing it to sting painfully.

Beside her, Aragorn shoved a large rock off his leg, and sat up, his face dark. The remaining ceiling was now so low as to not permit even Buffy to stand up, let alone Aragorn. The tunnel was now completely blocked off from the area from which they had come, and the only remaining options left to them were to chance crawling through the only exit left, or to stay where they were and wait for the rest of the ceiling to fall down atop of them.

"Well, I'd say this qualifies for a worst-timing-ever award." Buffy said after a moment, "Did you ever think that the Valar must really, really hate us?"

Aragorn said nothing, just picked up a large stone and chucked it at the mass of stones forming a wall against their escape in a rare fit of temper.

"Did I miss something? Or did you just decide to blame the poor wall?" Buffy asked, "'Cos I hardly think you need to be helping the lovely unstable tunnel to bury us completely!"

"I hardly think this is the time or place for sarcasm, Buffy," Aragorn said, "How do you propose we get out of this? We have no idea where this tunnel leads!"

"Well, we're going to have to find out aren't we?" Buffy said diplomatically, sensing that Aragorn was in a major bad mood.

"And how are you to crawl through the tunnel with that hip Dagnir (slayer)?" Aragorn demanded, the effect of his steely glare somewhat diminished by the grey dust covering his face and hair.

"I've had worse before. Trust me on that. Now, come on, let's get out of here before Murphy's Law kicks in again and the rest of this place decides to land on top of us."

Taking Aragorn's hand, she tugged on it purposefully, and though he grumbled, the ranger followed her down the narrow passage, forced to keep his head down to avoid banging it on the lowered ceiling.

He just hoped that this path did not lead them into something worse than that from which they had already escaped…

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Several hours later, both Buffy and Aragorn were dismayed to find out that the tunnel was a dead end, and led them only to an old empty storeroom. There would be no escape by this route.

The tunnel had led them further into the bowels, and the walls had steadily grown damp and slimy, but all that lay at the end of the long trek was a storeroom. Talk about letdowns.

But at least they had gained room to stand about twenty feet after they had left the collapsed area of the tunnel, and which allowed Buffy the room to kick the wall in frustration. Her side and hip were killing her, Aragorn was acting like a grumpy grizzly bear, and they were trapped. What a good day she was having! It ranked right up there with getting thrown around a tower by Glory. And at least she'd had a big hammer then.

Flopping down on the ground, she glowered at empty air, not noticing Aragorn's surprised expression.

"Buffy, is that Mithril I see?" Aragorn asked in near disbelief, thinking that his eyes were deceiving him.

Buffy looked at him in surprise and then saw the bright glitter of her corselet through a tear in her tunic. "Yeah," she answered, lifting up her tunic to show him the gleaming Mithril mail. "Galadriel gave it to me. It was once Celebrían's but she gave this to me when I came to Middle Earth. She said I might have need of it. It comes in very handy when someone's trying to gut me."

"Buffy, do you have any idea how much that is worth?!" Aragorn exclaimed.

"It's saved my ass a couple of times. That's pretty much all I need to know about shiny armour types of things."

"You wear a fortune of a prince upon your back and you do not even realise!" Aragorn exclaimed, "Let it be known that you have different priorities than many of your race."

"Oh, not having money sucks, but when your friends with Kings, and Queens, and lords and ladies and all that, it ain't that hard." Buffy replied, taking her cloak out of her pack and bunching it up beneath her to support her. As she leaned her head back against it, she listened to Aragorn talk.

Aragorn began to outline various plans they could try, finally settling on attempts to get past the blockage in the tunnel and had gotten quite involved in his plans ere he noticed that Buffy had been oddly quiet.

Looking towards her with the intention of delivering a rebuke for her lack of attention, Aragorn's face softened when he saw that Buffy had fallen asleep, and was now lying back against the wall, head pillowed on her cloak.

Aragorn smiled involuntarily at the sweet sight, but there was also concern for her well being. The Buffy of old would never have been so tired already, and he knew this to be an affect of her injuries.

Softly padding over to her, he gently and carefully adjusted her so that she lay more comfortably, and removing her blanket from her pack, tucked it in around her to keep her warm.

She had been through so much, he thought sadly, and had gotten so little in return. He did not really know what to make of the surge of strong feelings of protectiveness and concern towards her that had arisen within him lately.

The feelings were new, but strangely comfortable within him, and though he dismissed them as a mere by-product of Buffy's injuries, he puzzled over them nonetheless. This fierce urge to keep her from harm, the anger at the ones who had hurt her and himself for being the cause of it, and his overwhelming concern at her serious condition were new unknown feelings to him.

He had never had to worry so much over one person; the people in his life that he cared for were usually well guarded, only the trouble hunting, orc killers that the twins so often were, were the exception. He was not used to having to worry over one that he could not protect, and that was not protected by others; it was not a feeling he liked. He had never liked feeling helpless.

But that was what he felt like now: - helpless.

Buffy would die without proper care, and he honestly did not know how he would handle that if it came to pass. But if he were to fight the inevitable, they had to get out of this orc infested place.

Giving the stone-hewn room another cursory check, he went over to Buffy once more, to see how she was and to see if she was comfortable. Satisfied that she was safely locked in slumber, he grabbed his pack and went to investigate the rocks that blocked the tunnel.

Buffy needed her rest, and he would not wake her. She would need all the energy she could get, but for now, it was time to see if he could get them out of here in time.

By the Valar, they would not be the next ones to fall victim to the malice of the mines of Moria.

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Buffy awoke to a hand gently shaking her shoulder. Blinking groggily, she soon discerned Aragorn and with an aggravated sigh, she got up. "Hey, Aragorn," she greeted him, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "I don't suppose you have any idea what time it is?" she asked.

"No more than a few hours since you fell asleep, I would imagine," Aragorn answered, "But it is now time to eat, and to try to discuss where we go from here."

"Where we go from here?" Buffy repeated, "Oh, I don't know, we could start shouting really loudly and get the orcs to dig us out."

Aragorn's glare was very, very sharp, "What a splendid idea!" he said sarcastically, "Now why did I not think of that? Perhaps because I have no desire to die as an orc's dinner?"

Buffy got to her feet, shaking out the kinks in her neck from sleeping on cold stone. Feeling light-headed, she leaned back against the wall, and cried out in surprise when it gave way under her weight.

Aragorn could scarcely believe his eyes as Buffy literally fell through the wall, and he hurried forward to help his friend.

Buffy blew a stray strand of hair out of her face as she lifted herself out of the dirt, and then took a closer look at her surroundings. "Why do I get the feeling I should be saying 'uh-oh'?"

The portion of 'wall' that Buffy had fallen through was very obviously not real stone when you looked at it after you'd crashed through it. Instead, it was a heavy wooden door, heavily aged, with a façade of stonework on one side. Which Buffy thought was just perfect if you wanted it to be a trap door.

Of course, the lovely 'Buffy crashes through stupid misplaced Dwarven wall' rant that was in the offing, went completely out of her mind when she got a good look at where she'd ended up.

Apparently, contrary to popular belief, not all of the wealth of the Naugrim (Dwarves) of Khazad-dûm had been plundered.

As Aragorn carefully climbed through the hole in the wall, and came over to Buffy, he too was enthralled by the sight.

Gold, Mithril, jewels, mail, and weaponry…. There was quite a hoard of it locked away here. And all about ten feet away from them. "By the Valar!" Aragorn exclaimed softly, "It was thought that the orcs and Durin's Bane had carried away all the mines' treasure long ago."

"Well, it seems they missed a spot," Buffy said, getting up and looking at the dirt covering her with no little disgust, "But couldn't they have picked a slightly more convenient, and hopefully less filthy, place to put it? Buffy no like going splat."

"Are you alright?" Aragorn asked contritely, eyeing her in that full healer mode 'I can spot an injury from fifteen feet away' manner.

"Fine. Just badly in need of a bath," Buffy said, lying through her teeth. "So if you can tear your eyes away from all the glinting gold, what do you make of the lovely cavern behind it?"

Aragorn eyed the dark, dank, eerily silent cavern and the lake with too dark waters that spanned it. "I think that something lurks within its depths." he said after a moment, grey eyes fixed on the surface of the lake.

"You too, huh?" Buffy said, "That's just great. From one monster to another we go. I swear, this could be the script for a really bad horror movie."

Aragorn looked at her strangely, not understanding her reference to the world of movies, but decided to let it go. There were just some things it was better for him not to know.

As Buffy fiddled with the Dwarven treasure, admiring some of their work, Aragorn moved back into the outer storeroom and cried out in dismay at what he saw.

"Buffy!" he called, "There is water gathering in the storeroom!"

Whipping around so fast that her head spun, Buffy hurried over to Aragorn and joined him in gaping at the latest disastrous turn of events.

Through another opening in the wall, a torrent of water was pouring through. Enough water to flood the collapsed tunnel, trap them and drown them. How on earth where they supposed to get out now?

"You know, I think this is taking the whole 'bad luck' syndrome a tad too far," Buffy said shakily, "And who knew the Dwarves did booby traps? I thought that was left to the Egyptians. Got any more bright ideas Mr Ranger?"

"Leaving out all the plans that end with our deaths, not many ideas are coming to mind." Aragorn answered.

Buffy glowered at him, "If we die in here, I'm gonna kick your ass. I mean it." The water had risen to her calves now and she quickly grabbed her dripping pack and sodden cloak before they were totally washed away. Beside her, Aragorn did the same.

"We should move back into the other cavern," Aragorn said, "It might gain us more time to find a way out of this."

"I think a quick death by Balrog would have been slightly better than drowning in who knows where? I _hate_ it when they drown me!"

Aragorn eyed her askance so she stopped complaining, and started sloshing through the water. "Tell me," she asked, "Do we let the treasure stay here and rot? Or take it with us? All that mail, and the swords could be useful. Sharp, pointy things always come in handy."

"Take only what you can carry," Aragorn said, "I shall try to find another way out of this cavern, you must keep an eye on the water. When the water rises to the level of the hole in the wall, tell me. For then we must make haste or it will be too swift for us."

"Ok, ranger boy, now get a move on!" Buffy said, eyeing the rising water. Why on earth was it that whenever they were together, disaster and catastrophe went hand in hand? 'Thou shalt not lust over your best friend's guy,' - Buffy was sure this was her punishment. What else could possibly explain her extreme bad luck?

Noticing Aragorn standing about fifty feet down the long winding slope that led to the dark lake, apparently staring at nothing, Buffy's temper rose and she shouted out, "Isn't there something you should be doing right about now? Like _getting us out of here_?!"

Aragorn shook his head as if coming out of a trance, and looked back up at her, "I could have sworn I saw something," he muttered to himself, before raising his voice and calling up to Buffy, "How does it fare?!"

"Like we should start gathering two of every animal!" Buffy replied, and then noticed Aragorn's puzzled expression, "Never mind. Let's just say we're gonna need a nice big boat pretty soon. So get a move on or else we're going to be underwater!"

Moving to the Dwarven treasure, she found some pieces of armour and some nifty weapons, and stuffed them in her pack. If they wanted out, then having as much weapons as possible was a necessity. Most weapons crumbled when they stuck a Nazgûl which rendered them unusable ever again. And Eru knows they'd need every advantage they could get if they wanted to try to escape. Aragorn had said that both the Nazgûl's Captain, and Khamûl, captain of Dol Guldur in Taur-e-Nelaedelos (Mirkwood), the second in command, had led their fellows into the mines. So they were really being hunted by some of the top guns of Mordor.

As she fingered the lovely trinkets that had been lost in Moria for over a thousand years, good Buffy and bad Buffy warred. Both Buffys agreed that there was some really pretty stuff here. Bad Buffy said that she could use them to get some really nice Dwarven battle-axes that she had been drooling over since she first saw them. Good Buffy said that she could send it to the Dwarves of Erebor. In the end, due to a lack of time and an ominous swishing sound behind her, Buffy decided to take some trinkets and worry about what to do with them later.

Even as she tightened the straps of her new gauntlets, Buffy failed to notice that the wall behind her was beginning to crack under the pressure from the fast flowing water. Breaking free with a loud roar, it swept Buffy away and under its cold depths, as it roared down the sloping cavern.

Buffy sputtered helplessly as she was dragged under, and as she was turned around and lost all sense of bearing, she tried to figure out which way was up. Trusting her instincts, she began to kick powerfully, ignoring the ache in her side and hip, and after a few heart wrenching moments, she finally broke the surface.

Seeing where the flow was heading, she closed her eyes just in time as the Dwarf-made river splashed into the lake.

Buffy immediately started swimming away from the stream of water flowing into the creepy lake, she managed to get to the rapidly flooding bank of the lake. Scrambling up the slimy, dank stone, she spotted Aragorn trying to rush back, and she gulped in air as he reached her and helped pull her up the slippery incline, even as the water level of the lake began to rise ominously.

"I'm ok," she gasped, "I've been meaning to cut back on that habit-forming oxygen for a while now."

Aragorn helped haul her sodden form down a narrow, slippery path, "I had hoped that this would lead us out," he said as they went, "But we have no time, we must chance it now ere we drown."

"Totally agreeing with you there. I've been nearly drowned so many times, it just isn't funny any more." Buffy said, having got her wind back, and now running under her own power.

"It appears to be a dangerous route," Aragorn warned, as they came to the shallow opening in the cavern wall that led to the narrow path.

"I've done dangerous before. And what can I say, I'm way too used to creepy caves. Now speed it up ranger boy, before we end up like the ones that missed Noah's Ark."

"I am not even going to ask," Aragorn muttered as Buffy handed him the cracked, wet and now very beat up looking glow-ball.

"Smart man," Buffy replied, as the duo rushed into the dark opening, and disappeared into the murky shadows of the unknown path.

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When they had been wandering the darkened passage for about an hour, Buffy started to shiver uncontrollably. It wasn't just from her dunking in the lake, her slayer sense was going haywire and she didn't know why, or what was setting it off.

Aragorn noticed her shaking with concern, and he wrapped his cloak around her while he drew her close to share his body warmth with her. She leaned into it gratefully, the chills wracking her body. Aragorn watched her carefully, he had never seen Buffy Dagnir (slayer) get sick, but it would appear that the poison in her system, and the fact that she was pushing herself past her endurance, was weakening her.

Buffy's whispered words came to his ears after a moment. "We're being watched."

"By who?"

"Something dead," Buffy said softly, trying to get her shivers under control.

"Do you know where it is?" he asked, wrapping an arm around the frozen slayer's waist to support her as she concentrated on her senses, intensifying her chills but homing in on their hunter.

"Nearby," Buffy said after a moment, and then started to mumble to herself, "Okay, flesh. Anytime you want to stop crawling is okay with me."

After a few more minutes of walking, during which Buffy was silent but watchful, and Aragorn felt the tension mount, and a sense of a malicious presence watching them grow more clear in his mind.

They came to a crossroads, where three paths branched off, forcing them to halt. "Which way now?" Buffy said softly, eyes locked on the glow-ball started to sputter.

"My blood runs chill," Aragorn muttered.

"So does theirs," Buffy answered, in a child-like tone that caused Aragorn to look at her in surprise. Her eyes were eerily blank, and Aragorn's bones froze to the marrow when he realised that it was not wholly Buffy speaking.

Something else held parts of her in its grip.

Something evil.

Aragorn chose one of the passages randomly, but was abruptly halted by Buffy's strong arm latched onto his, pulling him back. "That's not the way out." she told him.

"Why?" Aragorn asked, "How do you know?"

"It's down there." Buffy replied easily, no trace of her usual spark in her expression, and Aragorn realised that something was trying to help them, trying to warn them before it was too late. "All locked away…… the Dwarves drove it there long ago, when the world was young."

"Locked away what?" Aragorn demanded, his fear mounting.

"Me, I believe," a raspy, bone-chilling voice whispered from the shadows of the passage and Aragorn's heart leapt into his throat. "Think of what I do as revenge from beyond the grave."

"Hirilen (my lady), what is that thing?!" he cried.

"I'll let you know as soon as I find out." Buffy said, snapping out of whatever trance had possessed her.

Aragorn moved to hack it with his sword, but Buffy stopped him, "What good are weapons against disembodied spirits, Aragorn? They have no ass to kick. Leave it for a moment, ok?"

Buffy's eyes locked onto that of the spectre's as it came forward, radiating malice. "Besides, I'm betting it's strictly haunt, but don't touch, isn't it, ghosty? It can't do anything except give us grey hairs."

"If prey wanders so willingly into my grasp, then 'tis my right to seek their deaths…" the spectre hissed.

A cold finger ran down Buffy's cheek and she jumped, "Or maybe not," she said to herself. Clearly she was underestimating the ghostly abilities of spooks in Middle Earth. As the spectre darted forward towards them, the lust for the kill giving it an eerie green glow, Buffy and Aragorn instinctively sidestepped.

"You wouldn't happen to know if Elvish runes work on ghosts, would you?" Buffy asked.

"How would I know?!" Aragorn said, "As I have never encountered one ere now!"

"A fat load of good ranger training is," Buffy muttered, "I could have sworn there was ghosts near the Shire, but then again, what do I know?!"

Buffy pulled the blue glowing Elvish sword from its sheath, even as Aragorn did the same with his Elven enchanted dagger. Buffy slipped into a defensive stance as the ghost came upon her, and swung the sword with all her strength.

The ghost let out an ear-splitting screech that rang through the passage, and against the two with their shining Elvish blades, it fled back down the path from whence it had come.

Buffy sagged against the wall in relief. It had really reminded her of the First for a moment there, and she had been freezing even before he decided to ice her up.

Aragorn didn't give her a chance to recover though and he hauled her to her feet, setting off at a swift pace. "We must get somewhere else quickly," he explained, "I do not even want to think how many orcs heard that screech."

Another hour or so of travelling, they emerged into the upper levels of the mines thanks to a massive flight of stairs, and soon came to a great hall.

But as Buffy looked around the impressive and grand space of hall twenty one, both she and Aragorn silently cursed their luck as the screeches of the Nazgûl sounded nearby.

Taking off at a dead run, both slayer and ranger hoped to Eru that they could outrun the Nine…

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In Lothlórien, the Lady of the Wood wearily leaned against the thick silver trunk of a mallorn tree. She had exerted all her power, along with Nenya's, to pass on a message to the slayer through her sight. Where the message originated from, Galadriel could not say, but she believed it to be from one of the Lords or Ladies of the West, to warn their champion of her peril.

Sending out new messages to her border patrols, she then left to seek Celeborn. If all went ill, she would need her hervenn's (husband) comfort ere this crisis was over.

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The Bridge of Khazad-dûm, the Mines of Moria

Buffy and Aragorn rapidly descended a near crumbling staircase and Buffy let out a cry when she saw the Bridge of Khazad-dûm. "That's the way out!" she exclaimed, increasing her speed, "Bet you I can beat you to it!"

Both of them were forced to screech to a halt when one of the Nazgûl emerged from the shadows of the bridge, standing dead centre on the single file bridge and blocking them from getting across. And then the Balrog stepped out from the shadows too, its bright fiery glow lighting up the mines, and the heat it let out aggravating Buffy's sweatiness to fever standard.

Buffy wiped away the sweat that had beaded on her forehead, pointing at the Ringwraith with one shaking finger, "Ok, that's it Mister!" she snapped, "You're getting out of my way if I have to toss you out of it!"

As she made to advance on the wraith, Aragorn turned her attention to the other eight wraiths, and their troop of orcs, that had come up behind them. "Oh, this is just great!" Buffy said, flinging her hands into the air. "I swear, somebody's head is gonna roll because of this little mess! And it's not gong to be mine!"

Looking at Aragorn, they exchanged a silent look of understanding and then they raced for the bridge, even as the Nazgûl gave chase and the orcs let loose their arrows. Buffy led the way across the bridge, trying to hide her flagging endurance, and as they reached the Nazgûl, Buffy pulled out a small Dwarven axe from the treasure hoard and let it fly straight into its chest. Then as it flailed madly, Buffy swung and tossed it into the Balrog with all her might, making it lose balance and knocking both wraith and demon off the bridge, hiding the knowledge that she'd ripped her stitches. Again.

There, she'd done it. What was Glorfindel blathering on about? That Balrog was easy to kill! Just look at it go splat!

And racing towards the bright sunlight that they could see from their vantage point, Buffy and Aragorn finally made it out of the Mines of Moria and into the light.

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The Valley of Azanulibizar, (also called Nanduhirion) in the Dimrill Dale. The first of the month of Nárië (June)

While the bright light seared their eyes, it invigorated their spirits and gave them speed as the Nazgûl minus one led the orcs out in pursuit of them. Buffy joyfully called out to Andúnië (Sunset), as the horse came towards them. "Get up on her, Strider!" Buffy called, "And give me a boost once you've done that!"

Aragorn followed her command, easily mounting Andúnië, and reaching down to help Buffy up in front of him, his arms slipping firmly around her waist, and his eyes widening when he felt fresh blood.

"Noro lim, (ride fast) Andúnië, noro lim!" Buffy cried, and Andúnië leapt forward at the command of her mistress, and set off at her fastest canter, trying to keep her gait steady as if sensing that her mistress was ailing.

Behind them the Nazgûl gave chase on their black mounts, the orcs lagging behind, and Buffy told Aragorn to keep an eye on Andúnië whilst she struggled to untie her spare bow from her saddle.

Buffy's head was spinning as she lifted the bow, though she took great pains to hide this from Aragorn, who'd been acting like a great big dark mother hen since they'd met in the mines.

Finding a piece of flint in her saddlebag, she swiftly set two arrow points ablaze and for a moment she tried to aim but couldn't focus enough to see her shot. Finally giving in to her need, she used her senses to point the bow in the right direction and quickly loosed the two arrows.

The flaming projectiles slammed into two of the Ringwraiths and unhorsed them, confusing the others so that Andúnië and her riders gained the lead.

Her body finally pushed completely past endurance, Buffy's eyes rolled back into her head, and she would have fallen from the horse if Aragorn had not grabbed her.

Aragorn clutched her limp form to him, and checked her pulse worriedly. It was slow and thready, and Aragorn felt his bones chill. Nudging the faithful mare, he called, "Noro lim, Andúnië, noro lim o Lórien! (ride fast to Lórien.)"

He only hoped they reached it in time.

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Lothlórien, The second of the month of Nárië (June)

Ever faithful, Andúnië got them to the borders of the Golden Wood ahead of their pursuers, though the mare was exhausted and hungry.

From the shelter of the trees, the Marchwarden Haldir and an Elven patrol dropped down from the trees once the two exhausted humans were well inside the borders of Lórien.

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn," Haldir greeted him, "The Lady has been expecting you for many days."

"Haldir o Lórien. (Haldir of Lórien.)" Aragorn gasped out, "Henio aníron, boe ammen i dulu lîn. Boe ammen veriad lîn. (We come here for help. We need your protection.)"

"The Lady has already sent word that all aid is to be given to the ranger and slayer that would come to our borders." Haldir said, "But the lady is badly wounded, tell us what happened."

"It all went horribly wrong." Aragorn began, telling a very condensed version of their tale.

Haldir's ageless face was grave when Aragorn had finished, "This is evil news indeed. Come, we must make for the Lady with all haste, else Dagnir (slayer) has not long for this world, and that is in the reckoning of mortal men."

"Lead us on then," Aragorn said, "And we shall follow as best we can."

Haldir shook his head at the ranger's stubbornness and gently took the unconscious slayer from his arms. "I shall carry Dagnir for you are not looking too healthy yourself, and all haste must be made; haste even as it is reckoned by Elves. You will grow weary and need aid yourself, but I promise you that we shall reach Caras Galadhon within a day and a half."

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, The third of the month of Nárië (June)

Caras Galadhon was a flurry of activity when the Dagnir was brought in, with none other than the Heir of Isildur himself looking half-dead from exhaustion trailing behind her, being supported by two Elves of the border patrol.

Galadriel and Celeborn were awaiting them and Galadriel immediately discerned that Buffy was involuntarily drawing strength from her bonded, and so keeping death away by a hair.

The Lady of the Golden Wood hid her dismay at the state of the two humans behind a calm façade and whilst Celeborn led Aragorn away to tend to him, Galadriel laboured to save Buffy.

'Twas said that there were few now left on the Hither Shores with the skill to match such evil, but Galadriel Finarfiniel (daughter of Finarfin), daughter of the current High King of the Noldor in Aman, granddaughter of Finwë, once High King of the Noldor before his death, she who had crossed the Grinding Ice and so come to Middle Earth in the First Age of the world, and now the eldest Calaquendi (Light Elves) left on these shores, was one of them.

Exerting all her power, she drove the Morgul poison out and with the most pressing danger gone, now concentrated on the rest of Buffy's wounds. Stitching the wounds on her side and hip, Galadriel then passed on some of her strength to Buffy, to support the slayer and to enable faster healing.

While not completely out of danger, the slayer was stable now, and should live. Galadriel sat down wearily, wondering again why Buffy's path was fated to be so hard. If things kept on as they were, the brave slayer would be world weary ere Sauron's fate was sealed, for good or ill, and Galadriel would make sure that she received some reward for her efforts if she had to shout down all the Valar in Aman.

Brushing a chaste kiss on the pale forehead of one who had become dear to her, Galadriel assured herself once more that time would heal her wounds, and that her bond with Aragorn would keep her afloat should infection sink in.

But now, weary as she was and no matter how much she longed for Celeborn's embrace, she had an exiled King to placate.

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The Mirror Grove, Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien.

Aragorn did not mince words once he arrived at the Mirror Grove. He had not seen Buffy in twenty four hours ever since Galadriel had taken her off to be healed, and he was practically bouncing off the walls and demanding to know how the woman was.

"How is she?"

"She will live if infection does not set in," Galadriel answered, "But this is her second brush with death in so short a while. Her healing may be slowed because of it."

"Her _second_ brush of death?" Aragorn repeated in disbelief.

"When she turned aside to come to your aid, she was heading back to the land of the Horse-lords from Rivendell, where Gandalf the Grey had brought her for healing after she was attacked by some monster of Sauron on the plains of Rohan. She is not invincible Elessar, thought she is stronger than most Men, she cannot take such abuse so often. You were foolish to dare Moria, Heir of Isildur."

"Do you not think I know that?" Aragorn said, "I see her so close to death and I know it was my fault. She has no place in such dark travels."

"She is the slayer. The dark has always been her place. You cannot shelter her Aragorn, but neither should you lead her to her death. You would greatly mourn her loss, though you do not know it now."

"I know I would miss her!" Aragorn exclaimed, "She is a close friend to me, and to Arwen. Do you think I would see her hurt if I could help it?"

"I say that you have already hurt her, through ignorance and wilful denial." Galadriel said in a royally imperious tone.

"What do you mean?" Aragorn demanded.

"You may not see it now, son of Arathorn, but you shall one day. And when you do, you will say what you have wrought. But it is not my place to open your eyes now. Tend to your friend, and may you use your foresight more than is your wont. Whether you deny it or not, you are Isildur's Heir, and if you do not take up the crown of Men, there will be none that can. You cannot shirk your responsibilities forever, for though Elrond has decreed that Arwen his daughter shall wed none but the King of both Gondor and Arnor, I speak for her mother. And I say that Arwen Undómiel (Evenstar) shall wed no man that does not know his own heart. She shall not throw her life way over one who has not yet proved himself worthy."

"She loves me and I love her." Aragorn protested.

"You are as blind a man as I have met for many a year. Not all kingdoms can be reunited with the stuff of tales," Galadriel said, as she left the clearing, "Nor can all hearts be won because we want them. Think long and hard, Elessar, your choice approaches on swift wings."

And with that the august Lady of the Wood took her leave of him, and left a dumbstruck ranger to wander under the eaves of the mallyrn for a long evening, and a longer night.

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A/N: So? Feedback please! Comments are welcome! Please READ and REVIEW!!!!

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P.S - I have been nominated for the My Precious Awards, so thanks once more to whoever did it! Please my gorgeous, darling reviewers and readers, vote for me!! (bats eyelashes and dangles free Aragorns and Legolas's…)

It's the _2004 MPA (my precious awards for LOTR fanfiction excellence)_

The link is here: (just remove the spaces!): http : www. elvenlords . Net / MPA / mpa . htm

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PLEASE VOTE!!!!! FOR ME OF COURSE!!!

Voting season is from September 15th to October 15th. Please vote for me!!

Even if you don't normally review please vote!!!

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VOTING SEASON IS NOW **OPEN**!!! PLEASE VOTE!!!!!!

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Next chapter: We learn what it means to be a Shield-maiden… Buffy gets a new vocation… We have misunderstandings galore, scheming Eldar, an Elvish party, and news of the One Ring….

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Elvish:

Dagnir - slayer

Naugrim - Dwarves

Hirilen - my lady

hervenn - husband  
Nárië - Quenya for June  
Andúnië - Sunset

noro lim - ride fast

noro lim o Lórien - ride fast to Lórien.

Haldir o Lórien. Henio aníron, boe ammen i dulu lîn. Boe ammen veriad lîn. -_ Haldir of Lórien. We come here for help. We need your protection._

Finarfin - daughter of Finarfin

Undómiel - Evenstar

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Aman - also called the Blessed Realm, Valinor or the Undying Lands. Home of the Elves in the West.

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Azanulibizar - the valley below the East-Gate of Moria.

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Calaquendi - the Elves of the Light. Basically those Elves who had dwelt in the Undying Lands.

Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Durin's Bane - the Balrog of Moria. Killed Durin VI in 1980.

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Khamûl - Ringwraith. Second only to the Witch-King. Also known as the 'Black Easterling'. Was perhaps the wraith with the strongest capability of thinking for himself but had the weakest powers during the day. In charge of Dol Guldur.

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Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Nanduhirion - the glen about Mirrormere between the arms of the Misty Mountains into which the Great Gates of Moria opened. Translation: Dimrill Dale.

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Naugrim - 'stunted ones'. Elvish term for Dwarves.

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Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

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Taur-e-Nelaedelos - The name of Mirkwood in Sindarin. It means 'Forest of the Great Fear'. This is what Greenwood the Great (Eryn Galen in Sindarin) was named after the rise of Dol Guldur.

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The Grinding Ice - When the host of the Noldor left the Undying Lands in rebellion against the Valar after the theft of the Silmarils by Morgoth, Fëanor instigated the First Kinslaying when he slew the Telerin Elves of Alqualondë for their ships. But as there were not enough to carry all the Noldor from Aman at once, he chose those most loyal to himself to go first and instead of sending the boats back for the other host of Elves, which was larger than his, he burnt them. The remaining Noldor under Fingolfin, though Galadriel was also one of the leaders, were forced to cross the Grinding Ice (think of something like polar icecaps.) to get to Middle Earth. Many perished on the journey, and the crossing was long, hard and treacherous.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	19. The Spirit of A Slayer

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Thanks to all those who have voted for me so far in the MPA awards! A million thanks go out to you! And your Aragorn and Legolas plushies are en route!

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Review responses:

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - I understand Tolkien's views but I do believe it is another dimension. After all, if the Valar had been in the world during WWII, why wouldn't they have stopped Hitler? They did send emissaries to fight Sauron.

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Andrea35 - Thanks, and I hope your computer problems end soon! Yes, Galadriel all but tells him, but hey, they do say love is blind. In Aragorn's case, that would equate _really _deep love! Good call on the Éowyn thing! About the prophecy, I'd never actually considered that!

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Anna - Thanks a lot! And the Balrog, it ain't dead. Just mad. Very, very mad. Watch that space…. Yes, the Lady of the Wood is trying to knock some sense into her granddaughter's fiancé, and failing. Thanks for all your comments! :)

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Arye - Thanks! New readers are _always_ welcome!

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Boo - The Ring of Adamant was another name for Nenya. Gee, I hope you're not too drugged up!

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catrina of the rose - I considered it, but thought it would be way too awkward. Something of the same ilk does come up in this chapter though.

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Donna8 - As Joss Whedon said, 'A happy Buffy is a boring Buffy'. I personally don't agree but it's a good quote! And Aragorn is gonna put himself in his place in this chapter!

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Draco's Slytherin Vampiress - I had some unexpected free time… thanks for your remarks, and yes, I'm making it really hard for Buffy!

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DragonStar - She didn't slay the Balrog…

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FallenStar2 - Thanks for reviewing! Yes, love is blind. A well used phrase in this story but he'll wise up soon enough. And Denethor may have been a future steward, but could you imagine Buffy married to him? She'd kill him within a week. And I hate storms too. Or when the site eats my reviews. Very annoying to try to remember exactly what you said first time round!

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goldenshadows - thank! Er, something a little bigger than Galadriel's telling off I'm afraid. And Buffy will be walking into a nightmare…..

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Haley - Thanks, the reason I include the explanations at the bottom of my chapters is to facilitate readers who aren't familiar with Tolkien's less well known work with regards to LotR, even though it may seem unnecessary to people who know already! And running is probably a very good idea….

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Lady of the Wood - the suspense is killing everyone I think! Thanks for your vote! All is appreciated!

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mari - Really? And how would you suggest I word it? Should I be warning about heart attacks or sudden urges to kill the author?

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Mary4angelus - thanks for your vote and your comments!

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MiShA - I'm always happy to get new readers! And thank you for your vote! Sorry, but no scoobies will be cropping up in this fic, I am working on another one, however, that may include Angelus.

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Moonbunny77 - I totally get what you're saying, but by this chapter Buffy's been in ME for thirty years…. Whoa! Yeah, Frodo got Kingsfoil but Buffy's got Aragorn and Slayer healing…

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N/A - Thanks! Your vote is definitely welcome! I am so getting competitive now!

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Pamie884 - Thanks! Yes, the cracks will show. Some in this chapter actually!

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Phoenix83ad - definitely a major dolt. And yes about the Balrog…. I've got plans for that critter….

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polgara-5 - Trouble? Following them? More like being carried in their packs! And thanks!

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Restive Nature - Glad to hear you're okay! And you can be little miss cool with the sunglasses! :) awww, thanks a lot! I do see Galadriel as flawed, she's just better at hiding them than most, and as the oldest of the rebellious Noldor left in ME, she's definitely had enough time to perfect doing just that! And another thanks for the canon comment. I cannot claim to know anything next to everything about it so it does involve research, but then again, according to the History of ME series of books, even Tolkien himself got confused about what was canon and what wasn't! Thanks for all your lovely encouraging comments! I always look forward to your reviews! So thanks again!

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Shadow Master - Thanks a bunch! Yeah, I think Elrond would have to agree that they must be cursed! Ah yes, the Balrog, but I never said it died, now did I? And as I already told you, the bond is meant to be vague and undefined. It makes it so much easer to fit it in that way. And in the last chapter, Aragorn let Buffy share his strength. Buffy did the same for him when he was almost assassinated in Gondor, so it's not really new. Your ideas are cool though, but the bond is erratic as it's not fully formed yet! Sadly, there will be no actual chapter with Buffy in the Shire for this fic. And I think that the Hobbits are the only people who actually could call her tall.

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ShawThang - thanks a bunch! And how exactly would Buffy go on strike? Let the monsters kill her? I think it's a bit of an impossibility! Yeah, I was thinking of Indiana Jones when I wrote that part too! I mean, crawling through caves, getting chased by baddies, treasure, booby traps, fight scenes… all trademarks of those movies! I half-made up the ghost but I based it on the fact that the Barrow-downs near the Shire have some lovely malevolent ghosts lurking about. So I put one into the back history of Moria! And as for possessing Buffy, it was Galadriel who was channelling someone from Aman. An unknown someone, but a someone. Balrogs are not that easy to kill, as Buffy will find out to her detriment later. But for now, she's got a ton of bragging material to torment poor Glorfindel with! And your review was in no way boring! I love long reviews!

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Slayergirl - Thanks! I honestly don't know. An idea hits, I go with it and I see if I can turn it into a fic.

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Sparky24 - yes, Buffy is getting beaten up every which way! And Aragorn's not so much dumb as clueless! No, the full Nine have been awake for quite a while. Thanks for reviewing!

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Star - yeah, but things get slightly lighter in this chapter! Yeah, as I've said already, love is blind. And when he finally figures out what Galadriel was alluding to, he'll be kicking himself! Yes, plenty of twins…. And company…..

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Wild320 - We are talking about Aragorn here aren't we? Aragorn doesn't do 'waking up'.

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Xxx - sure, I'll put them at the bottom of this chapter!

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And major thanks to:

Batgirl Beyond, Braindead, gaul1, Jania, Malfeus, Ms8309, Night-Owl123,

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CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE SPIRIT OF A SLAYER

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"A true friend does not stab you in the back, but in the front."

- unknown

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Edoras, Rohan, 3003 TA.

"The first rule to kicking a guy's ass is making sure they know who's boss," Buffy lectured authoritively to her avid charge, "You see, all these little tough guys see a girl and go 'oooh! Damsel in distress! Must rescue! Or kill!' - that depends on what you're fighting. But if you can annoy them while you're beating them up, you get bonus points."

Éowyn nodded at her favourite tutor; the young girl idolised the blonde woman. Elliandre was the only Shield-maiden to actually ride with the Rohirrim, and had come by great renown for her prowess. She was what Éowyn dreamed of being; someone unfettered by the constraints that were placed on many other women, and someone who both brooked no fools, and was respected for doing so.

Éowyn had so long dreamed of being a Shield-maiden and when she had been deemed old enough to begin training, it had been to her joy that Elliandre had been assigned as her trainer.

Buffy urged her to her feet, handing her a wooden practice sword, "Come on, time to see how you're getting on with the pointy thing."

What followed was a sparring session that left Éowyn breathless and Buffy not even winded, but Elliandre was smiling, and that made Éowyn feel somewhat better. "You're really improving," Buffy said cheerfully, "What have you been doing? Beating on that brother of yours I hope?"

Éowyn smiled back, "Nay, Éomer would not be seen on the training fields with me if he can help it," she answered, feeling only some slight regret that she did not get the chance to practice with her older brother.

But Elliandre only nodded knowingly, "Never underestimate the male ego," the warrior said, "Men can have such big heads that it's surprising that they are able to fit through doors."

Éowyn giggled at Buffy's comments, an image of her uncle Théoden King in such a position being too funny for words. "Elliandre," she began, turning serious again, "I have heard tales about you and I wish to know are they truth or merely lies."

Buffy stopped putting away the practice swords and turned to face her spunky eight year old charge. "Dare I even ask what stories? 'Cos I really didn't mean to knock down that wall. It just…fell over."

"The ones that say that you have passed through Dwimordene, and that that is why you have been beaten by no man in combat." Éowyn said, big blue eyes following Buffy's form as she paced.

Buffy sat down beside Éowyn, and after a moment's silence, began to speak, "Yes, I have passed through Dwimordene, or the Golden Wood as it is really known, and the Lady that lives there isn't evil, insane or the wicked witch of the west, despite whatever you may have heard. You shouldn't believe those tales Éowyn; you're a daughter of kings, and you have to know more than everyone else. It also works really well for telling people off when they're wrong and you're right."

"But they say the Lady changed you!" Éowyn said furtively, studiously not meeting Buffy's eyes, but her head snapped up when Buffy only laughed.

"Listen here, my little buddy, I went into the Golden Wood already strong. Trust me, the Lady of that Wood, hasn't altered me in any way or turned me into a toad yet. Men just like making stories up so that they don't feel so bad when I kick thier ass. But as a matter of curiosity, who started these lovely little rumours?" she asked, her tone hardening as she spoke.

"That counsellor Gríma," Éowyn answered, "He does not like you and often speaks ill of you to my uncle."

Buffy nodded grimly, "Listen to me Éowyn, for I have already warned your brother on this matter. Stay away from Gríma! The man is a snake, cheat and a liar, and he _really_ doesn't like me. Because of that, I get the feeling that I'm not going to be in Rohan forever, Éowyn, and I wouldn't urge you to turn your back on that little rodent for a second. I don't know what his purpose is, but whatever it is, it isn't good. Never trust a word he says! And never be alone with him if you can help it!"

"But my uncle the King trusts him, and he rises ever higher in his favour," Éowyn said, wholeheartedly believing her teacher. She herself had never liked Gríma, and she did not doubt Elliandre's word for a moment.

"Snakes often like to slither their slimy little butts into high places," Buffy said, "And Gríma is a slime-ball if I ever saw one! Beware of him, Éowyn. I really do fear for you."

"I am a Shield-maiden of the House of Eorl!" Éowyn declared proudly, "I fear him not! And if he seeks to harm me, I shall show him my steel!"

Her idol smiled at her, but it was a sad smile, "Not everything can be solved with steel Éowyn, my little spitfire, and sometimes it's best not to even try. I'm only telling you to be on your guard, not to chase him about Meduseld with your sword!"

"But such a man should not be allowed to poison my uncle's ears!" Éowyn protested.

Buffy grasped her shoulder, and turned the child to face her, "But while he has the ear of the king, there is nothing anybody can do without proof. You know, innocent until proven guilty and all that jazz. Promise me you're not going to do anything stupid."

Éowyn pouted but eventually gave in, "I promise," she said sourly, "But I still want to hit him."

"So do a lot of people, spitfire, but anyone who does is likely to be thrown in the King's dungeons. Which I might add, are not the most comfortable place to spend time in."

"But then what am I to do?" Éowyn asked.

Buffy hugged the little girl, and answered her softly, "Watch, listen and learn, Éowyn, and wait for the moment to pounce. Just remember that when it comes down to it, you're smarter than him. You'll have the last laugh eventually."

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Meduseld, Edoras, Rohan, 3004 TA.

"You would believe Gríma Wormtongue's word over mine?!" Buffy cried in outrage, rounding on Théoden and resisting the urge to strangle the skulking little worm that was his shadow.

"I will have no foul witch in my country!" Théoden shouted back, angry at her for her supposed deception, and angry with himself for falling for it.

"Witch! Hello, I am so not one! But that little dirtbag in the corner is a spy for someone and is not exactly looking out for your best interests because he's a lying, cheating, sneaking piece of scum!" Buffy all but snarled.

"Do not try to spew any more of your lies Elliandre!" Théoden said, "You, who has not aged a day since I met you?! No, there could be no better proof of your lies!"

"Not all that is withered is lost, Théoden," Buffy said with icy composure, "And there are many more things in this world than you have any comprehension of!"

"Do not dare to gainsay me Elliandre! My word is law here! I am king! You will obey me!"

"Why? I don't tend to obey orders very well anyway, especially not from stuffy, lying, gullible, cold-hearted bossy-boots like you! Rohan's King is about as effective as an orc when it comes to watching out for the tricks of the Enemy!"

"Spoken from one of the Enemy's servants, that is rich insult indeed!" Théoden scoffed, "You are banished from these courts and from my lands, Elliandre, under pain of death. Do not make me throw you out of here!"

"As if you could!" Buffy sneered scornfully, "But do not worry Théoden, I'll go and you can get on with pulling the wool over your eyes all that you damn well please! But mark my words, you'll bring nothing but pain and death to the Riddermark! And your little worm will cheerfully lead you to it!"

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As she gathered her things in a state of simmering fury, Éowyn ran into her room, tears streaming down her face. "Oh Elliandre! Tell me it is not so! Tell me uncle has not banished you!"

Buffy crossed the room to her and shutting the door, enfolded the girl in her arms, "Well, since he's threatening me with death if I don't, I kinda do really have to go. Wormtongue won this round I'm afraid."

"But surely you can disprove his lies!" Éowyn cried, aghast at her only woman friend, and her beloved tutor, and hatred for the dark counsellor welled in her breast.

"I'm sorry, spitfire, but whatever he's done to Théoden, the king doesn't believe me. He believes that little worm now, and I fear that it will only grow worse as time passes. You have to be a big girl now Éowyn, 'cos I won't be here to help you anymore. You have to be strong and not let Wormtongue fool you too. And remember to keep an eye on your brother for me. He's way too hot-headed for his own good in this case."

"But I do not want to be parted from you!" Éowyn exclaimed fervently, "Take me with you, I plead with you Elliandre. My uncle will but cage me here in this court and I would know freedom!"

"Oh, Éowyn!" Buffy said softly, "I'm sorry but I can't! You belong here in Rohan!"

"But I shall not cause you any trouble! I promise! I shall be so very good!"

"Éowyn, it's not that. My life tends to be suck a lot, and there's always lots of nasty stuff thrown in to entertain me. Trust me, Éowyn, it's no place for a child."

"But I am a Shield-maiden!"

"You're still a kid." Buffy said firmly, "And I really am sorry Éowyn, but it's impossible. Considering Théoden thinks I'm all evil, I highly doubt that he'd ever let me walk out of here with you anyway. I have to go, and you're going to be okay without me. After all, you've got Éomer to watch out for you."

"Éomer would treat me as if I were made of glass," Éowyn said, "He will not take my dreams seriously!"

"Then make him take them seriously," Buffy replied, "Just because I'm gone, doesn't mean your dreams are Éowyn. They belong to you. Make them happen."

And with those final words of advice, she slung her bag over her shoulder and made to leave the Mark ere things got even more hostile, leaving a dejected wannabe Shield-maiden in her wake.

****

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Imladris, 3004 TA. The season of hrívë (winter).

'Twas a subdued and weary slayer that rode into Elrond's vale in the winter of that year. Weary in body and soul, saddened from her parting with the little whirlwind that was Éowyn, and her own deep seated loneliness during the last years of her stay in Rohan, had caught up with her in a big way.

And so she had come to Rivendell, seeking the peace and healing that the beautiful valley offered, and as a place where she didn't have to be the slayer in the years that the shadow was darkening and Sauron's influence was growing stronger.

Arwen was in Lórien when she came to the valley, and not expected back for at least six months, and the twins were out on errantry, hunting the orcs and goblins of the Misty Mountains.

But Elrond, at least, was glad to see her; even if he was concerned at the shadows under her eyes, and her lacklustre attitude. She pretended not to notice his scrutiny, desiring nothing but rest from the cares of the world.

She felt way too much like she had during her last two years in Sunnydale; weary, drained, backed against the wall, and very alone.

She could feel the Shadow gaining in strength, and seldom now was her sleep undisturbed. Dark dreams haunted her sleep, and though she could not discern their meaning, the feelings they induced in her were anything but nice, and what rest she got was sometimes of little use to her.

She was beginning to fear sleeping now; the nightmares that plagued her were even worse than those she had had when the overzealous Willow brought her back from the dead against her will.

But Elrond seemed to know when not to press her, and so kept his silence and let the serenity of his realm replenish her drained spirits. And sneakily conspired to throw her and the single Hobbit in the vale together.

She had never met a Hobbit before, but she had heard tales of this one, Bilbo Baggins from many different sources and with different degrees of feeling: from Gandalf, Aragorn, the twins, Elrond…

But hey, any Hobbit who helped instigate the Battle of Five Armies and got to anger a dragon couldn't be too bad. Bilbo, having only moved to Rivendell permanently in 3002, was also curious about this 'Dagnir' (slayer) he had heard to much about and was forever pestering her with questions.

And so whilst Aragorn roamed the wilds, Legolas defended his wood, and Arwen was abroad visiting her grandparents, Buffy remained in Rivendell, awaiting the day when her skills would be needed again…

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Taur-e-Nelaedelos (Mirkwood), 3005 TA.

As the years passed by, a growing trend could be seen by the close friends of the two warriors; Buffy and Aragorn.

Legolas, for one, kept his peace on the matter; helpless to interfere as his own grief and guilt over his indiscretion against Arwen and Aragorn, made him loathe to criticise Aragorn now.

Also as he was friends with all three involved in this most unusual triangle, he thought that it was better if he stayed well clear, however his heart might bid him otherwise.

But he had the keen sight of his kin, and even in his eagerness to absolve Aragorn, he could not help but wonder. As the years passed, Aragorn ceased to discuss the growing darkness overly much with his betrothed, preferring instead to seek Buffy out in Rivendell, and hearken to her advice.

Legolas had found himself delicately asking why he shut Arwen out so, but Aragorn's response had only been more fodder to increase his confusion. For the ranger had replied why trouble the fair Evenstar with tales of horror, when the Slayer of the dark things of the world, had better and more sound advice to give, mostly from her own experience with the shadow. And that she had seen the worst of the world, and he had no need to censor his thoughts or troubles when with her.

Legolas had not been able to argue against that, but ever did he wonder at his friend's demeanour towards Buffy, and knowing her well kept secret that she hoarded in her heart of hearts, he worried for her welfare if Aragorn persisted to lead her on so cluelessly.

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Rivendell, 306 TA.

For his part, Elrond watched them as well; always noticing that Aragorn and Arwen, while still in love, were both keeping secrets from each other, and pulling back to keep them so.

The Elvenlord dared not yet hope, for ever had Arwen been stubborn once it came to her choices. And as she was blessed with the foresight of his line, as well as her mother's, she was wise beyond the measure of her years, and some said that maybe one day she would pierce the hearts of others like her foremother Idril Celebrindal had been able to.

But now, seeing the manner in which his foster son behaved towards Dagnir (slayer), he could not help but wonder, and plot.

His sons had told him before that Aragorn and Buffy had had some feelings for each other before; but as the long years passed with no indication of it, he had dismissed it as the folly of youth. Or the wishful hopes of his twin sons.

But seeing Aragorn ever seek out the worldly, battle knowledgeable and fearlessly brilliant Buffy, Elrond's devious brain had kicked into overdrive. Now he could no longer look at Buffy as a woman destined to fight against the Dark Lord.

Now he looked at her, with new eyes, at the woman who could possibly save his beloved Undómiel (Evenstar) from her self chosen fate.

And he vowed that he would make sure that Aragorn got a helping hand in pressing his unwitting suit, if he had to kill them both to do it.

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Lothlórien, 3007 TA.

From the Golden Wood, Galadriel was perhaps the only one armed with some knowledge of what was happening. For she knew of Buffy's long abiding love for the king of Men, and she had seen Aragorn's conflicted heart.

But what was perhaps more damning than her reading of their hearts, was the vision Arwen had received, both from her own gift and once more in the surface of the Mirror.

The Lady of the Wood would not feed Elrond false hopes and so she had bided her peace until a more opportune time had come. A small, cunning smile graced her fair face as she reflected upon her ingenious plan of action.

After her beloved grandsons had requested her aid in their endeavours, an idea had come to her mind to see how the complicated situation stood at this time.

Elrond's 3067th begetting day was to be next year and Galadriel was determined that her son by law should celebrate the day. With a ball. And guests.

And if she had her way, then a certain foursome would know the cunning of Galadriel…

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Imladris, 3008, TA.

For her father's begetting day ball, Arwen travelled to Rivendell with her grandparents, the planners of said ball, and their large escort of Lórien soldiers armed to the teeth. They were the last of the guests to arrive; Thranduil, Legolas, Gandalf, Aragorn and Buffy all having arrived before them, or in Buffy's case, had already been staying in the valley.

Weary from weeks on the road, Arwen had decided to forego seeking out Aragorn, and instead retired to her chambers.

Galadriel though, lingered near the gardens for several minutes, gazing into the distance, before entering the Last Homely House. Though her foresight could make out that something was going to happen there later, she felt that this was something that she had to let run its own course, and so she decided to seek out her son by law and see what he had done with her irrepressible grandsons.

They did have work to do after all.

As Arwen could not remain blind to Aragorn's behaviour when it occurred under her very nose, and Galadriel knew that all her family were loath to see Arwen waste her immortality so rashly, she was content to meddle.

And so, if her granddaughter would not save herself from her own folly, then it was high time for her family to step in. And she would see Buffy's long patience and suffering rewarded.

Whatever it took to accomplish it.

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Having heard that Arwen had retired for the night due to her weariness, Aragorn made to seek out his friends, desiring to catch up with them away from the sharp eyes of Elrond and Thranduil.

Hearing that they were in the glade with the hot springs, he eagerly went to find them.

Moving with all the silence of a well trained and well skilled ranger, he crept upon the duo silently, hearing the sounds of laughter as he approached.

Peeking through the thick bushes to see what the commotion was all about, (he had walked in on Elladan and Elrohir's mischief one too many times to not check out what the situation was first.) the ranger froze, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Buffy was lying on the ground on her back, long blonde hair spread over the grass in disarray, and Legolas was firmly sitting on top of her, his fair face close to hers, whispering something into her ear.

Buffy was giggling, flexing her wrists as Legolas pinned them to the ground with one hand, his other hand softly stroking her side.

She wriggled underneath the Elf, as his long fall of silky hair hung down to hide their faces, both unknowing of their stunned watcher.

Aragorn could not believe what his eyes were seeing; and as he watched two of his best friends snuggling together in the manner of lovers, he felt some unknown feeling well up inside him. As he watched the two blondes frolic together, he pushed aside the uncalled for swell of resentment and instead focused on his growing anger.

So Buffy and Legolas were lovers and had not bothered to tell him? How long had this being going on for? How long had he been the fool who had not known? Had Elrond known? Was that why Buffy had stayed in Rivendell these past few years? How could they not tell him, he whom they called friend?!

Hurt at this deception, he let his anger build and build until it he was seething. So Buffy and Legolas found it amusing to deceive him so callously, did they? he mentally snarled, well if that was how they wanted it, fine!

What did he care if they had found love with each other? He told himself. No, he did not care overly much at all, he tried to persuade himself as he stormed back into the Last Homely House.

So then why did he feel like wringing Legolas's neck?

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What actually happened: the objective view.

Buffy squealed as Legolas pounced on her, knocking her to the ground, and pinning her down. "Take that back!" he said, as he began to tickle her mercilessly with one hand.

Buffy just laughed harder, and made no effort to extradite herself from the position she was in. "What? That you fell into the Forest River?"

"I was four!" Legolas snarled.

Buffy was getting breathless from laughter and her squeals and giggles rang through the air. "Hey! It's not my fault Thranduil likes telling tales! And you're getting grass in my hair!"

Legolas just leaned down closer, so that his breath ghosted past her ear, "Why should I let you up? And have you tell Elladan and Elrohir? Do I look like a fool? You are not to tell them Buffy!"

"Aha! I knew it!" Buffy crowed, "So you admit it!"

Legolas just tickled her again, and Buffy playfully flexed her wrists to see could she wriggle out of this predicament, without literally booting her friend off of her.

Legolas's hair fell down like a curtain about them as he tormented her, "Promise me you will not tell them!" he demanded.

Buffy tried to quieten her giggles, "Okay! Okay! I give! I won't give the twins more ammunition! There! Satisfied?"

"Very," Legolas said, smirking as he got off her. "And let us not forget that you are not the only one who has tales to tell…"

Buffy just glared at him as she tried to get all the leaves and grass out of her hair, "If you even think about it, I will personally help the twins wreak havoc and mayhem on you. And I'm mean…"

"I get your point, Dagnir (slayer)," Legolas said, laughing himself as he helped her up, "But come, 'tis nearly time for the last meal and I would not wish to explain to Lord Elrond and my adar why we were late!"

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Flashback: -

The royal palace, Mirkwood, 3003 TA.

"Do not play me for a fool, my Greenleaf!" Thranduil said, as he rounded on his only child, "I know that something is the matter and that it has to do with Rivendell and why you refuse to visit there!"

"'Tis nothing adar (father)!" Legolas cried, determined to leave the room at the first opportunity that presented itself.

Trying to escape out the door, he cried out in surprise when Thranduil beat him to it, and blocked the door with his larger frame. "Do not even think about it ion nín (my son)," he warned in a low voice.

"This is none of your business adar!" Legolas exclaimed in frustration, "Will you not just leave me alone?!"

"Greenleaf," Thranduil said evenly, "You have been moping about for the last twenty years and it has gotten worse lately. I hear that your temper has curdled and that our people now tread warily around you of late. I have let you linger on in your own fashion long enough pen neth (young one), I refuse to let this continue any longer. You are not leaving this room until I know what is troubling you. Even if we must stay here for a year."

Legolas sighed, and flopped into a chair, knowing all too well how stubborn his father was, and that he always followed through on his threats. His adar would not be satisfied until he had extracted the truth from him, by whatever means.

"I fear that I did something grossly inappropriate ada, and that I impugned on a friend's honour while doing so." Legolas said quietly, his head hung with shame.

Moving away from the door, Thranduil took a seat himself, eyes locked on the form of his self flagellating son, "I take it then that you finally made some of your intentions known to the Lady Arwen?"

Legolas's blonde head snapped up in surprise, and for a long minute, he just stared at the rather smug looking Elvenking in shock, "Ada?" he asked tremulously, "How did -?"

"Ion (son), you forget that I have known you all the years of your life. Did you really think you could hide so profound a change from me? I had wondered whether you were ever going to challenge that mortal's supposed claim on her. Estel (Hope) is arrogant indeed to think he deserves the Evenstar of the Elves, and she his foster sister no less."

"I kissed her ada, and then I left the vale the next morn. I had trespassed against her honour, and harmed my friendship with Aragorn. She is betrothed, she is not free. I had no right…"

"Greenleaf, if you think that reckless human would be upset, then I would agree with you. However, a little bird told me that your human is of mixed heart, and is acting like a genuine buffoon when it comes to the tangled affair that is courtship. Because I would say, my son, that it matters little what Aragorn thinks, and what only matters is the Lady Arwen's opinion."

"She does not care for me ada." Legolas said despondently, "She loves Aragorn. She will be his queen."

"I believe that she fancies herself in love. After all what love tale is more poignant than the tale of Beren and Lúthien? And she being a descendent of that union, and herself called Lúthien's image come again to Arda, I would wager that she would find it very easy to imagine herself and Aragorn as the star-crossed lovers of old. Trust me, my Greenleaf, Elrond would most heartily support your suit. And I believe Galadriel is into the business of making a match for a clueless king in exile. So why not woo the lady of your heart; court her, seduce her, win her heart. Eru knows you tend to inspire rather too much adoration amongst some of your own people."

"Ada!" Legolas cried in shock at his father's advice, "I cannot betray Aragorn!"

"And if the lady herself comes to care for you, are you going to lock her in a marriage with a mortal she no longer loves; forsaking her immortality and her chance of happiness for him just because you fear to stain your honour for her. If you love her, Greenleaf, fight for her. Or at least see if she feels the same. If she tells you nay, then you can move on with your life. But if she says yes, then, my son, love her, court her, and take what happiness you can from such a love match."

Legolas didn't reply, and Thranduil, seeing that his words had gotten through to his headstrong offspring, decided to leave him to his thoughts.

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Rivendell, 3008 TA. The following morning.

Aragorn's anger at the betrayal of him by his friends had not waned over the passing of the night, and so it was that when he walked into the dining hall for breakfast, he exuded such an air of frigidity and menace as to have nearly the entire hall staring at him.

Sinking into his seat like a big grumpy grizzly, he managed to refrain from trying to bore holes into Legolas and Buffy, who were looking over at him and whispering together. The very sight made him grind his teeth together. Just look at them! He thought! Talking about me, probably laughing at my stupidity.

His dark expression just got darker and darker as the meal wore on, until he wore a scowl so black that some of the serving staff were afraid to go near him.

Even Elrond was clearly taken aback by his foster son's mood, but Galadriel just smiled serenely at the ranger, and he had to resist the urge to throw the bread rolls at her, just to wipe that expression off of her face.

Even the arrival of Arwen could not soften his mood, the very sight of Legolas and Buffy sitting next to each other, with all their orc-damned whispering and nudging was driving him insane, and Arwen, who had seated herself beside him, was hard pressed to get even the barest of attention as Aragorn attempted to glare his food into submission.

Eventually Arwen stopped her gentle entreaties and comforting touches, leaning back into her chair with a small pout of pique at her betrothed's behaviour.

At this point, Galadriel had to hide her satisfied smirk behind a napkin, causing Elrond to look between her and the ranger suspiciously, and even Celeborn was hard pressed to try to keep a straight face at the wary and apprehensive scowl Elrond was throwing in the direction of his mother in law.

For her part, Arwen could not learn what the matter with Aragorn was, and after having all her gentle questions rebuked most harshly, she was determined not to coddle Aragorn any more. Really, she huffed, he had not behaved so childishly since he was a stripling! And now here he was, a grown man, practically sulking at the table! She pointedly ignored the fact that she was now doing the same.

Aragorn's dark mood was obviously catching, and spread a dark cloud over all those near to him. To the other side of the ranger, Glorfindel could be seen to glance over at the glowering man every few minutes, undoubtedly in response to hearing the latest muttered threat the man had growled under his breath.

Directly across from the ranger and the seneschal was Erestor, and he seemed to be more concerned over whether Aragorn would demolish the table if he glared at it anymore than Glorfindel's discomfiture as Aragorn started literally stabbing the food on his plate. The Balrog Slayer really did not want to have to explain to Elrond why his youngest suddenly felt the urge to be homicidal.

Buffy honestly didn't know what was the matter with him either, but she tried to ignore him as best she could, firmly believing that he'd emerge out of his bad mood eventually. After all, he really couldn't beat Angel for the most brooding record, so she really wasn't fazed overly much.

But when she left to head to the training grounds to see if Gildor was up for a match, Aragorn rose and followed her.

He caught up with her just before she reached the bridge, and grabbing her by the arm, spun her around to face him. Buffy looked at him in surprise and then told him off for acting like a barbarian but Aragorn ignored her.

"How long has it been going on Dagnir? How long have you been hiding it under my very nose?" he snarled, hands clutching her arms tightly.

Buffy was utterly baffled, "What's been going on?" she asked in confusion.

But this only made Aragorn even angrier. "And now you lie to my face!" he growled, his anger overriding all his common sense, "You would lie about the fact that you lay with Legolas last night? But what can I expect from one so given to treachery? I'm sure that you and Legolas had much laughter at my expense! 'That fool Aragorn' you would say, never realising how his supposed best friends had concealed a fact of such import?! How long has this gone on? Before or after you had Denethor? Or -"

He never got the chance to finish his rant because Buffy punched him square across the jaw, splitting his lip and barely missing his nose, "How dare you?!" Buffy shouted, angered beyond measure by Aragorn's callous words. "I thought we were friends, and then you come out here and all but call me a whore?! How dare you Aragorn?! Get off your damned high horse for a minute and just maybe you'll be able to rub two brain cells together! There is nothing going on between me and Legolas, so whatever 'betrayal' you were harping on about only exists in your imagination! And about Denethor! I mean eeeugh! Men! They make me sick!" she said, slapping the stunned Aragorn across the face for good measure, "I really thought you were better than that Aragorn. I thought we were friends. Guess this proves me wrong, huh?"

Without any other word, she stormed off, furious and hurting, her eyes suspiciously wet, and fiercely resisting the urge to choke Aragorn.

Behind her, Aragorn fingered his aching jaw, but then it hardened and he too stormed off in the opposite direction.

And from a glade nearby, Thranduil and Elladan just stared at the spot where the shouts had been heard, wondering where in Arda that had come from.

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Four days later, Elrond's begetting day celebrations commenced under strained circumstances. Aragorn, having vented his spleen upon Buffy, and then Legolas, was strenuously being ignored by the Elf and slayer concerned. And Thranduil and Elladan, having informed the others in the household of what had occurred, had everyone on edge as the volatile trio were gathered in one room.

Elrond had merely declared that he had a headache, and had tried to gracefully bow out of this party for him, but his austere mother in law would hear none of it and had all but forcibly dragged him into the seething pit of tension.

The air of the room was noticeably chilled, and the golden duo of Legolas and Buffy were doing their utmost best not to acknowledge Aragorn, or even the fact that his harsh and rash words had had any effect on them whatsoever.

To the sharper eyed people in the room, it was clear that Legolas was also avoiding Arwen like the plague and that the Evenstar was also somewhat uneasy and could be seen to throw unreadable looks in the Elf Prince's direction every few minutes.

The secret to that riddle only two knew, but it gave several people pause for thought.

As the partygoers circulated amongst themselves, noticeably avoiding Aragorn's still foul mood, Elrond decided that he had had enough of this squabbling.

Heading over to his intolerably grouchy son, he indulged himself in a mini-rant to Aragorn on the inappropriateness and childishness of such behaviour and the duties that a man of his rank was expected to inform without acting like a two year old. Satisfied at having unleashed some of his annoyance, which was caused more by Galadriel's schemes, Elrond headed back to Celeborn, leaving Aragorn to try to wipe the scowl off his face ere Elrond fulfilled his threats and had the twins toss him in the Bruinen.

Speaking of the indomitable duo, the twins were out in all their splendour, and seemed to be having a great time chatting to Buffy and Legolas. Aragorn had to clench his teeth ere he started scowling again.

Even though he watched them with eyes clouded by rage and resentment, he could not help but notice that they made a good couple. Buffy was resplendent in an amethyst dress, intricately embroidered with silver, and Legolas was decked out in light blue and silver, making his fair hair shine like gold.

Aragorn refused to admit to himself that he was jealous, and ignoring the couple across the room, he sought out his Evenstar.

She was still quite annoyed with him over his behaviour these past few days, but soon warmed up to him after a few half-grovelled apologies and a lot of flattery to soothe her dented pride.

As Aragorn lost himself in his betrothed, and Buffy and Legolas made merry as if Aragorn was not present, commiserating with each other as they danced and talked; Elladan and Elrohir watched the unfolding events with nothing short of glee.

Having already entreated for and secured their devious daernaneth's (grandmother's) help, the twins were all set to implement their long thought out plans. And Aragorn's delightful little mistake had only helped to rush those plans along.

Aragorn's jealousy was obvious to all with eyes, save for Arwen and the ranger himself, and Elladan had recently come up with a most wicked idea to try to convince Aragorn that Arwen was not the woman for him.

As the feast began, and the appropriate toasts were made, the elder twin surveyed all the players in this little game of strategy.

Galadriel and Celeborn were deep in conversation with Erestor, all three wearing smirks way too knowing for comfort. Eru knew what mischief they would incite the counsellor into wreaking on them. After the chaos filled years of the twins' youth, Erestor had plenty of reason to want some payback.

Gandalf was smoking away on his pipe, gaining much amusement from the proceedings and the drama that encompassed it.

Elrond and Glorfindel had occupied one corner of the room, and were currently sipping miruvor and watching the latest show in the lovebirds saga unfold.

Thranduil was sitting near his son, eyes fixing on Arwen for long periods of time as if taking her measure, and then shifting back to stare at his son, who squirmed uncomfortably under that knowing gaze.

Arwen had flung herself into a chair, and was sulking like she had when she was a child, occasionally throwing dark glances in Aragorn's direction, whose face had frozen into a dark scowl perpetually aimed at Buffy and Legolas, who were sitting together, trying to help each other weather the ranger's animosity.

All in all, Elladan decided, it was the perfect setting for a plan to take shape.

For if five Elven Lords, and the Lady of Light herself could not make some sense of this mess, then Elbereth herself would hardly be able to resolve such subtle warfare.

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Later on, after everyone else had departed, glad to escape the increasingly chilled atmosphere of the great hall as all the parties involved moods' had soured alarmingly. Now having retreated to Elrond's study; Thranduil, Galadriel, Celeborn, Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir all tried to think up a solution to the present friction between the quartet of friends.

"I do not see why we must travel round in circles so, when it is plain to see that Aragorn is more jealous than he has ever been," Elladan said, leaving light-heartedness behind as he turned his attention to more serious matters than letting off some steam.

"Aye," Galadriel agreed, "But if Aragorn knows it not, then it is of little use to us for now."

Thranduil harrumphed, "Well I think we should concentrate on getting my son and Elrond's daughter to see sense ere we focus in on the ranger. I think he would need the hammer of Aulë himself to make him see reason."

Elrond glared at the Elvenking, "And why should your son be good enough for my daughter?"

Thranduil just smirked, "Chatter all you want, Half-Elven, but I know your thinking on this. If Legolas's love for Arwen is true, what is the harm in helping the lady in question see what could be hers if she were but to break with Aragorn."

"I worry more about this rift between Dagnir, Elessar and Legolas," Galadriel said, "They all have a part to play in the future and this ill parting bodes ill."

"Aragorn is acting like a child who has had his favourite toy taken from him," Elrohir offered, "But a few months of brooding should cure him of his anger, and then he should be prevailed upon to apologise most greatly to the two he has wronged."

Celeborn held up a hand for quiet, "I, for one, think we should establish our objectives in this matter. Are we trying to unite the Evenstar and the Greenleaf, as we seek to unite Elessar and Aralle?"

"I hardly think that name is fitting anymore," Galadriel said, "She has a place in this world now."

"But she has almost as many names as Elrond's youngest," Celeborn protested, "How am I supposed to keep track of her most current one?"

"Well, I hear she usually goes by 'Buffy'." Elladan said sarcastically, shaking his head at his grandsire's reticence.

"Aragorn will never act without provocation," Elrond said, "I say that is Arwen whose heart we must seek to waken to truth, and then she can dispatch Aragorn's illusions."

"But that hardly means that we cannot let Aragorn see what he is missing…" Elladan said, a thought coming to mind.

"Of what do you speak?" Thranduil asked, "If we can get Arwen to see Legolas's love for her, will not Aragorn finally be free to know his own heart?"

"Aragorn will not act without provocation you say?" Elladan said slyly, quoting his father, "We all know that Aragorn will not admit he is in the wrong unless most heartily pushed into doing so, so why not feed his jealousy?"

"And how would you propose to do that, Elrondion (son of Elrond)? Aragorn will not change his ways now." Gandalf asked as he walked into the room, always ready to help with a good plot or two.

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Elladan's growing smile was pure evil as he looked towards the Istar (wizard), "Then mayhap all Aragorn needs is a push in the right direction…"

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Nearly a week later, Gandalf sought Buffy out for a matter of most urgent importance. Leading her to a quiet area of Elrond's halls, he explained that he sought her aid and what information her watchfulness could bring him in his endeavours against Sauron.

"Buffy, I think it is time that you are acquainted with what is to come in the near future. Sauron has returned, and his strength grows daily." he said seriously, caterpillar like eyebrows wriggling as he furrowed his brows.

"I know that already. I mean c'mon, I've already met the oh so dashing Nazgûl." Buffy said, leaning back into her chair and fiddling with her nails.

"I think the One has been found," Gandalf whispered.

Buffy's head shot up to look at him, "You think _what_?!"

"I have never believed that the One Ring was lost to the sea, as some do, because for Sauron to grow stronger, then so too must the ring come closer to its master. It has returned from whence it was lost. The war for Middle Earth approaches on swift wings."

Buffy frowned, her hazel eyes troubled, "I don't suppose there's no way we can kill Sauron before he gets his hands on it, is there?" she asked without much hope.

"No, the spirit of Sauron will ever endure as long as the One Ring exists," Gandalf explained, "His life force is bound to the Ring, and the Ring survived. Sauron has returned. His Orcs have multiplied, his fortress of Barad-dûr is rebuilt in the land of Mordor. Sauron needs only this Ring to cover all the lands in a second darkness. He is seeking it. Seeking it, all his thought is bent on it. The Ring yearns above all else to return to the hand of its master. They are one. The Ring, and the Dark Lord. Buffy - he must never find it. Never. Or else all is lost."

"I've heard about the Last Alliance Gandalf, I know what's at stake. Obviously, we have to find it first. But where is it?"

"That answer is one that I am seeking, Dagnir (slayer)," Gandalf said, "But I think that you shall have a much greater… sense for the Ring. It was forged in evil, and all that is made with its power comes to ruin, and that your slayer senses will locate it swiftly if it ever comes to be near you."

"Pray that it never does," Buffy answered quietly, face pale and eyes dark, "'Cos I'm not so sure that I can resist its call…"

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A/N: Well? Feedback welcome and appreciated! Please READ and REVIEW!!!

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P.S - I have been nominated for the My Precious Awards, so thanks once more to whoever did it! Please my lovely darling reviewers and readers, vote for me!! (bats eyelashes and dangles free Aragorns and Legolas's… now throwing in Boromir action figures too….)

It's the _2004 MPA (my precious awards for LOTR fanfiction excellence)_

The link is here: (just remove the spaces!): http : elvenlords . Net / MPA / mpa . htm

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PLEASE VOTE!!!!! FOR ME OF COURSE!!!

Voting is from September 15th to October 15th. Please vote for me!!

Voting season is now OPEN! Even if you don't normally review, please, PLEASE vote for me!

As last I checked I was in third place, I'm getting all competitive now and I really want First Knight to win!!! Pretty please, with sugar on top?

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And to those who have already voted, thanks a million!!!!! :D

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Next chapter: It's 3017. The hunt begins, Glorfindel goes a-searching, we meet some not so happy campers, Arwen gets a revelation, Rivendell is threatened by a soon to be severe food shortage, and Gimli has an apoplexy.

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Elvish:

Imladris - Rivendell

hrívë - winter

Dagnir - slayer

Undómiel - Evenstar

Adar - father

ion nín - my son

Pen neth - young one

Ion - son

Estel - hope

Daernaneth - grandmother

Elrondion - son of Elrond

Istar - wizard

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Dwimordene - the name in Rohan for the Golden Wood of Lothlórien. It has generally been villainised by superstition, old wives' and soldiers' tales of the Lady who dwells there, and how she weaves her spells with sorcerers and net-weavers. All completely untrue, but none of the Rohirrim have ever gone near the Wood and they fear it.

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Éomer - son of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2991. Has lived with Théoden King since his parents death 3002. In 3003, Éomer is currently 12.

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Éowyn - daughter of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2995. Has lived with Théoden King since her parents death 3002. In 3003, Éowyn is currently 8.

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Gríma Wormtongue - Counsellor of King Théoden and agent of Saruman.

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Idril Celebrindal - daughter of King Turgon of Gondolin and his Vanyar wife. Married a mortal man called Tuor and bore him a son called Eärendil. She escaped the fall of Gondolin with her son and husband. And when Tuor felt the sea-call in him, she set sail with him on a boat, seeking the West. Tales say that both made it to the Blessed Realm, and that Tuor was given the life of the Eldar, and lives there still.

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Lúthien - Daughter of King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia. Born in the First Age. Married a mortal man and came back from the dead as a mortal after convincing Mandos with a song to release her and her love, Beren. Considered the most beautiful Elf-maid to walk Arda. Elrond's foremother.

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Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.

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Taur-e-Nelaedelos - The name of Mirkwood in Sindarin. It means 'Forest of the Great Fear'. This is what Greenwood the Great (Eryn Galen in Sindarin) was named after the rise of Dol Guldur.

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P.P.S - as per _xxx's _request, here are very rough summaries of the two other BtVS/LotR fics I am working on.

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Horizon's West: BtVS/LotR. Set in the Second Age. When the First Slayer chooses Buffy as her champion for Middle Earth, she helps fight the war against Sauron from Lindon, and works to undo the Rings' power while she struggles to fulfil her destiny and find a place in this world. Buffy/Elrond.

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Winter's Heart: BtVS/LotR. Set in the First Age. To stop a demon of her world ending that of Middle Earth, Buffy is sent to Gondolin, as one of its protectors. But when all goes wrong, and Beleriand sinks into the sea, can Buffy survive the loss of her home and her love? Buffy/Glorfindel.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
(¸.·'´(¸.·'´ '·.¸)' ·.¸)  
¸.·´  
( ·.¸  
·.¸ )  
¸.·)´  
(.·´  
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	20. The Hunt Begins

FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Rejoice my dear readers, for the time of the Fellowship is upon us at last!

And an even bigger yay to me for reaching the twentieth chapter mark. As I've never made it so far before, it's a big achievement!

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Note: Sorry for misleading on the previous 'next chapter' warning. This chapter was cut in half as it was either post part one now, or wait another week for me to finish the other half and then post. I decided to post the first part, so there's my explanation why! Please don't kill me, 'cos if you do you'll never get the next part!

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Review responses:

AJake - But I did give the URL! But here it is again, and it is at the bottom of this chapter as well! - http : elvenlords . Net / MPA / mpa . Htm. (just remove the spaces)

Anna - Thanks for reviewing! Yes, Buffy's next visit to Moria, will be interesting to say the least… Buffy's never encountered the ring, so she can't rightly say how it will effect her yet. And do remember that Aragorn likes being blissfully ignorant!

Boo - Éowyn as portrayed in the last chapter was eight and then nine at the time of Buffy's banishment. In the War of the Ring time, she was 23.

Bratprincess - thanks! All is appreciated!

ChibiChibi - Thanks for the review! Making it easy on them?! Now why would I do that? And yes, Aragorn is super super jealous and is just as super at ignoring it.

Draco's Slytherin Vampiress - Thanks! And I'm never more than a few paragraphs into the next chapter, if that, when I post.

DragonStar - yes, Gimli will be a key instigator in a certain problem that gives Elrond massive migraines!

Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell - mae govannen mellon nín! Thanks! And trust me, this site is determined to scupper all of my attempts to read, post and review. It's kinda like it has a personal grudge against me! Yes, the Mines had a serious grudge against him, and Buffy will eventually open up. She just has to get over her mad at Aragorn first. Thanks! Yes, I was kinda hitting on the mom/daughter relationship for Buffy and Galadriel, but that is also clouded by friendship. I'm actually working on a fic, which will have them in much more parent/kid mode! And yes, Aragorn is totally pigheaded and dense, but his wake up call is swiftly approaching now! Yes, Buffy will be revisiting Rohan at some point. And yes, Éowyn will get her chance to get some revenge on one slimy counsellor! Thanks again for your absolutely wonderful review (as excellent as usual)! Namárië!

Ellie - yes, it's definitely Buffy/Aragorn. And I've got so many plans for Boromir and his death… (cackles evilly)

goldenshadows - I hope you're not in too much pain! I once had to get four back teeth out in one go, so I do sympathise with you!

Haley - thanks! Yes, the Éowyn and Buffy meeting should be good!

Imp17 - Plotting Elf-Lords, ladies and Istari are a rather dangerous mix!

Lady of the Wood - apparently, this site decided to make my formatting go all wonky. Sorry about that. I'll try to get it fixed. Okay, now on to your confusion over Bilbo, well it's actually very simple. In the books, Bilbo gave the ring to Frodo seventeen years before the ring was found out to be the One Ring by Gandalf. I'm following a mix of book-verse and movie-verse but it had to be book-verse in this case otherwise there would have been a nice chunk of missing years. No, Buffy will not be going to the Shire. Even she would stand out there amongst the little people.

Lunawolf - Aragorn will get handed his brain soon…

Mari - I think Buffy's a little busy being extremely mad and righteous. And I'll take the wording of your warning into consideration!

Mary4angelus - the war is here…

Ms8309 - Buffy's ageing thing was explained fully around chapter thirteen.

N/A - Thanks a lot for all your efforts! And yes, Éowyn and Buffy, in Rohan, with Éowyn mooning over Aragorn. Should be interesting!

Pamie884 - Thanks for all your lovely comments! As for the two fics I'm working on, I'm currently going over plotlines with my beta, but I'll give you and all my readers advance notice of when I'll start posting.

Phoenix83ad - Well, Bilbo gets his chance to shine in the next chapter so don't go killing me yet! There's plenty of Hobbit action in this chapter, more in the next and pretty much from there on out. And yes, plotting Elves are NEVER a good thing.

Restive Nature - Thank you! :) And too true about Gandalf; - he plots more than anyone else, even if he does try to justify it for the 'greater good'. Methinks he just likes to meddle! And yes, it was time for Aragorn to get hit with a sledgehammer. As for Buffy contradicting her own advice to Éowyn, she had just been banished under pain of death at the time! Temper was expected! About Dawn… you have a point. But by now, (that's going by this chapter now, meaning 3018 TA.) Dawn is about sixty-four in Buffy's home world if she still lived so the time of her being Buffy's little sister is long older. Dawn's soul was always millennia old anyway. But yes, Éowyn did claw her way into Buffy's heart and so their meeting in The Two Towers sequence should be interesting to say the least!

SarahE.Horton - sorry, I can't really tell you. But the Fellowship sequence has started with this chapter, with Frodo coming to Rivendell.

ShawThang - (squeals) thank you! Thanks for your compliments on 'my' Éowyn! I was kinda nervous writing her actually. Thanks again for all your wonderful and much appreciated comments and I hope you have a nice time in Bali!

Sheila - that's really under heavy debate at the moment.

Sparky24 - I HATE Tom Bombadil, so he is not getting into my story!

Spikeywolvie - Thanks a lot! :)

Star - Thanks! Yes, Gandalf didn't really tell Buffy about the Ring to push her and Aragorn together. They have other plans for that… Gandalf just realises that he's going to need all the help he can get. And yes, Fellowship time is here. The LotR sequence is beginning! Yes, Théoden is going to get a shock, and so will Gríma Wormtongue! Revenge is supposed to be a dish best served cold after all!

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And a round of applause goes to:

Batgirl Beyond, charmedfanatic3000, Malfeus, moonbunny77, Night-Owl123, Queen of the Myrmidon, Tanya, Wild320, Zayra,

CHAPTER TWENTY: THE HUNT BEGINS

….

Hello darkness my old friend  
I've come to talk with you again  
Because a vision softly creeping  
Left its seeds while I was sleeping  
And the vision that was planted in my brain  
Still remains  
Within the sound of silence  
- _Simon and Garfunkel - The Sound of Silence_

…

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Fornost, 3018, TA. October 10.

Ten years had gone by since Buffy had last set foot in Rivendell or any of the Elven realms. For at the request of Gandalf the Grey, the slayer had gone out on errantry, sometimes riding with the twin sons of Elrond or the Dúnedain (but never when their chieftain was present), but always staying within the lands of Eregion, instead of the lands of the south that she was more used to.

For ten years, she had helped to guard the borders of the Shire with the aid of the Dúnedain stationed there. More often than not, she didn't attach herself to their companies, but instead went out into the wilderness, ever hunting for the spies of Sauron and the beasts that he sent to stalk the north lands.

Her faithful mare, Andúnië, had passed away some years ago of old age, and Elladan had acquired her present mount for her. She was as fiery as her mistress, swift and light-footed, with a coat of deepest black, so rare a colour in the free lands since Mordor carried away most of the foals born with its dark shade. But Buffy cared naught for the supposedly ominous colour of Mîr, loving instead the fierce and haughty temperament that the beautiful mare always exuded.

Elladan had actually had the nerve to say that Mîr was exceedingly well matched to her mistress. Buffy had shaved off a neat two inch lock of dark Peridhel (Half-Elven) hair that day.

Ten year patrolling the wilds of the north, and hunting down the monsters that threatened its borders, had not left much of a mark on her appearance. She looked like a young woman of no more than twenty four, more so than her actual age of a sprightly old seventy. The very thought of that tended to freak her out, especially when she looked in the mirror, but such slow ageing wasn't regarded as being too unusual amongst the Dúnedain, and all the time that she had spent with the Elves had given her a certain blasé attitude towards such ageing and agelessness at times. 

Of course, just because her looks were unmarred by age lines, and her hair was touched by no frost, did not mean that the passing of the last decade had not left its mark on her soul.

For ten years she had haunted the wilds, becoming become a spectre of the north, a being whose existence was but a fear filled rumour and whose name was known to few, and whose exaggerated exploits were whispered as tales amongst the dark things of the world, with either fear or contempt. She had only occasionally ventured into the towns and villages of Men, and so had lived a very solitary and lonely existence.

When Elladan, Elrohir or Legolas were free to hunt with her, the time passed quickly and she greatly appreciated their efforts to ensure that her self imposed isolation was not bereft of company and succour.

But as the years passed and the shadow's pull lengthened, such visitations dwindled as the duties of the rank called all the princes home.

Mirkwood was nearly besieged by Dol Guldur, and King Thranduil feared for his very walls, and Legolas no longer left his homeland now as their need was so dire. The Shadow had even spread into the farmlands of the Elves of Mirkwood and to the royal family's increasing dismay, every year the bounty they yielded grew less and less.

Buffy had gracefully acknowledged that Legolas could no longer spare the time to come to her, and she rued her inability to leave her guard to help her long time friend kill the nasties that invaded his beloved wood. She was sure that between him, Thranduil and herself, they could have come up with something positively devious and downright nasty to spring on certain baddies.

Also, Elrond had been forced to recall Elladan and Elrohir more often than was his wont to safeguard his realm, and had even recalled Arwen from Lórien to see out the duration of the war everyone was sure was coming.

And so for the majority of the last five years, Buffy had been alone much of the time, and that had enabled Buffy's patent non-chipper thoughts to get a nice little hold on her.

And then there was the little fact that she had never patched things up with Aragorn.

Aragorn had acted like a colossal jerk and so he would have to be the one to come crawling to her on bended knee, grovelling for forgiveness. Unfortunately, she hadn't reckoned on his sheer stubbornness, and so both had left Rivendell without a word of reconciliation passing either's lips.

Even ten years on, the very thought of the insults that had spewed from his lips caused her to burn with anger, and she had no intention of forgiving him, ever, if he didn't have one hell of an apology waiting to be thrown at her feet for consideration.

But considering the fact that her own stubborn heart refused to not love him, his little outburst and ensuing years of frosty silence between them, had only caused her pain of about ten times of that she'd felt when Angel said he was leaving Sunnydale for good.

Why she did always have to pick men who did nothing but give her grief and bucket loads of pain?

But the ten years of brooding time had made her come to realise one very important thing. There was no chance of anything ever happening between Aragorn and her. Even if he wasn't happily betrothed to the fairest maiden in Middle Earth, and who happened to be a superb woman who was also one of Buffy's best friends; Aragorn was going to be king someday if Sauron didn't win and all that.

No, there was absolutely no chance for her secret hopes.

And so it was time to bury them.

She'd put all thoughts of Aragorn out of her mind, and get on with her life. And if she survived to see it, she'd smile at his and Arwen's wedding, and pretend she was happy for them.

But for good or for ill, Buffy Summers vowed never to think on Aragorn as anything but a potential friend again.

……_xxx_…….

But that night, Buffy received her most vivid warning in ten years.

...xxx..... _Images flashed through her mind… the lidless eye of Sauron…. A gold ring, plain and unadorned save for the letters made with fire… a spiked tower whose image she vaguely remembered from map books…. A hissing voice, 'Build me an army worthy of Mordor'…. Two Istari, one clad in white and the other in grey, standing over a small clear crystal ball… the same two wizards, Gandalf and Saruman, facing each other in a duel of some sort….._

_Gandalf slamming into a wall as Saruman raised his staff… A shivering wizened figure with a thick grey beard, Gandalf again, she saw after a moment, huddled atop the spiked tower of before… trees being cut down by a horde of orcs and being thrown into a forge… some kind of orc being .. born she thought from some kind of liquid cocoon… 'What does the Eye command?'…._

_A hobbit frantically fleeing for his life, dark curly hair gleaming in the moonlight, as the Black Rider bore down on him and he jumped towards the river… a ranger wielding a flaming brand… Aragorn… and a vision of the old bridge of Osgiliath overrun by orcs… and then another image of the One Ring…. 'I see you!…._ ..xxxx....... 

Buffy jerked awake with a shuddering grasp, struggling to process the overload of images she had received.

All she had seen was not clear, but what she could glean from her dream was not good.

Something had gone wrong for Gandalf on his latest visit to that oily little sneak Saruman, and obviously he was way over his head in trouble. And it seemed that if she was reading this vision right; she had to find a way to get him out of it, while tracking down a hobbit on the run, avoiding the Nine Riders, and having to deal with Aragorn.

Sometimes, she really hated her life.

But after ten years of watching and waiting, at least she had some mission to fulfil now. Swiftly packing up her small campsite, one of her favourite haunts as there was a small cottage that was dreadfully run down and missing part of the roof but which long years of labour when Buffy passed through had rendered it a liveable base for her in the wilds.

Hefting her pack, and mounting Mîr, she urged the spirited mare into a canter, and within the space of an hour, had covered the ground to the message site.

After her timely rescue by Gandalf with aid from the eagles, their Lord, Gwaihir, had told her of a place where the eagles could be reached if she ever needed their aid again. He had said that she recognised that she had some purpose in these lands to fulfil and had pledged to aid her if he could.

Now it was time to hold him to that pledge.

The message site was basically what the name suggested; a place where she could leave a message which the eagles would then find. Hurriedly, she scrawled her note, asking them to send aid to Gandalf the Grey at Orthanc and to beware Saruman the White, and placed it in a small leather pouch to protect it before carefully hiding it amongst a pile of rocks.

Knowing now that her previous engagement with Gandalf to meet at Bree in a month's time would not now be fulfilled, she made plans to go there herself. Gandalf had said that they were to meet up with some very important people for some as yet undisclosed reason, and Buffy had no doubt that was Gandalf-speak for 'must help them before they get killed'.

Her mind kept flashing back to the image of the hobbit being chased by the wraith, and looking terrified out of his wits.

And Buffy knew that for better or worse, she had to find out what mischief the Nine were wreaking around Bree.

Because in her heart of hearts, she knew the hobbit she had seen was the same one that Gandalf had suspected of bearing the One Ring.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

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The wilds not far from Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 18.

Dusk was darkening the skies when Aragorn first heard the familiar and welcome sounds of faint bells jingling in the distance, and the careworn ranger sent gave mental thanks to the Valar for their mercy as he recognised the belled harness of Glorfindel's horse, Asfaloth.

"Glorfindel!" he cried out joyously, "Mae govannen mellon nín! (well met my friend)!"

The Hobbits just looked at the ranger in astonishment at his loud call for a moment before picking up on the sound of bells. Only Frodo recognised the dark ranger's use of Elvish, and by now, the other Hobbits were wondering why in all the Shire Strider had shouted out, after trying to shush them up since he met them.

As Frodo was only vaguely conscious and could not really assure his friends in the slightest, Samwise Gamgee rounded on the suddenly cheered ranger.

"Now listen here Strider," the gardener said, quite put out, "You can't be all hushing us and then yelling at the thin air without so much as a by your leave. And after all your warnings…"

Strider laughed slightly and interrupted ere Sam could continue with his tirade, "Peace, my good sir," he said, "But the bells in the distance belong to an Elven Lord from Rivendell, and in our sudden good fortune, we have met him upon the road. Glorfindel is his name, and he is an Elvenlord of a house of princes."

Sam was content with this explanation and went back to tend to his injured master, but Merry and Pippin had not heard a word of Strider's, both having their ears pricked in the direction of the road.

At the crest of the road, the rider stopped and dismounted, looking at them. With speed unknown to mortals, he had reached them, his magnificent white horse trailing behind, "Mae govannen, Dúnadan! We feared you were lost!" The golden-haired Elda said brightly, seeming not to see the three Hobbits gaping at him in astonishment. Fair were the Eldar beyond that of any other race, save those that dwell in the West of the world, and this was the Shire folk's first time seeing an Elf.

"Who is he?" Pippin whispered in awe.

Sam clapped him upside the head, "He's an Elf," but he couldn't keep the wonder out of his voice either.

"I was sent from Rivendell to look for you. We feared that you were in danger upon the road." Glorfindel said to Strider and then noticed the Hobbit's searching gazes and the prone form of their ailing companion.

"You found the halflings then," Glorfindel said with relief, "I am glad. They would not have made it a day on their own with the Nine hunting them."

Strider made quick introductions, mostly for the sake of Merry and Pippin, as he was eager to hear if Glorfindel had any news that might help their dark situation. "This is Glorfindel, who dwells in the house of Elrond."

"Hail and well met at last!" Glorfindel greeted, "Elrond has been warned of your coming. But what has happened to the fallen one?"

Strider's expression was grim as he spoke, "He was stabbed by a Morgul blade on Weathertop. That was many days ago, and he is crossing into the wraith world."

"A Morgul blade!" Glorfindel repeated in dismay, "Ai, this is ill news. Though I wonder that he has lasted this long. Many doughty warriors of Men have succumbed much swifter."

"Gandalf once said that they are made of sterner stuff than we might think," Aragorn said, "But I have done all that I can. His only hope lies with Elrond now."

Glorfindel's fair face was grave as he kneeled down beside Frodo, "Frodo... Im Glorfindel. Telin le thaed. Lasto beth nîn, tolo dan na ngalad. (I am Glorfindel. I've have come to help you. Hear my voice. Come back to the light.)" the Elvenlord commanded with all the strength of one that had dwelt in the Blessed Realm.

After a few minutes, Glorfindel rose and shook his head slightly to the ranger, "He is fading. He is not going to last. We must get him to my Lord."

"Aye, that is where we were heading. He needs adar's (father's) skill," Aragorn agreed but first you must tell me your tale as the Hobbits repack their provisions. I fear you interrupted what was their rest break."

"I have been seeking you nine days," the Elda said, "There are few even in Rivendell that can ride openly against the Nine; but such as there were, Elrond sent out north, west and south. It was thought that you might turn far aside to avoid pursuit, and become lost in the Wilderness."

"Have you any word on the wraiths?" Aragorn asked impatiently, "I know they hunt us, but I do not know where they are. It has given me many sleepless nights."

"There are five behind us, and when they find your trail upon the Road, they will ride after us like the wind. And they are not all. Where the other four may be, I do not know. I fear we may find the Ford is already held against us."

"Then we have no time to waste," Aragorn said decisively, "Let us make haste."

Glorfindel helped Aragorn to lift Frodo onto Asfaloth, "He is a goodly mount, and will ensure that the halfling does not fall, and that he is carried with a smooth gait."

"Frodo fîr. Ae athradon i hir, tur gwaith nîn beriatha hon. (Frodo is dying. If I can get across the river, the power of my people will protect him.)" Glorfindel said to Aragorn in Elvish, not wanting the curious and anxious hobbits to hear.

"I know," Aragorn replied quietly, "But with such odds that are stacked against us, we must think of nothing else save that we must reach the House of Elrond ere his soul is lost."

At the melancholy tone of the ranger when he spoke of the house of Elrond, Merry perked up. He had heard this tone before, always when the ranger spoke of Elrond's house and he wondered why the ranger sounded like that.

His mind flashed back to the time when Frodo has first asked him had he been to Rivendell, and the ranger's strange reply.

"I dwelt there once, and still I return when I may. There my heart is; but is not my fate to sit in peace, even in the fair house of Elrond." Strider had answered, his face troubled but unreadable for the most part, yet his eyes strayed longingly in the direction of Rivendell.

Merry could not have been more curious about Strider's mysterious past, and as to what was the source of his sudden fits of melancholy and nostalgia.

But he was determined to find out.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

__

Imladris, 3018, TA. October 18.

Arwen had scarcely waited for the evening meal to end before she swiftly refused all invitations to join her father in the Hall of Fire. From his pointed look of concern, she knew that he had not believed her excuse of tiredness, but such was her haste that she had little concern for what her father would think of her behaviour.

Dark tendrils of alarm had been haunting her mind all day, filling her mind with ominous warnings. Trouble stalked some of those she held dear. Her father seemed not to notice the feelings of creeping shadow that stalked those close to both of them, but Arwen, sometimes saw farther than her father when he was focused on some troubling bit of news or a dilemma, and she feared that that was the case now.

Arwen gratefully reached the privacy of her chambers, and absently fiddling with her Evenstar pendant, a most precious coming of age gift from her mother, she all but threw herself into a chair, and opened her mind to the stalking tendrils.

Casting her mind out, she swiftly sensed the danger, to both the predator and the prey, and her heart ached at what she saw. So much of the hope for Middle Earth could end if things went ill, and she could not allow that to happen.

She was the granddaughter of Galadriel, Mistress of the Mirror and known meddler in the affairs of others, and of Middle Earth. Arwen had often mused that it must run in the family because both she and her mother, Celebrían, had inherited that trait.

For good or ill, Arwen Undómiel (Evenstar) knew she had a part to play in this. She could not dare to leave things to fate. Too much stood to fall if it all went wrong.

Mithrandir (Grey Pilgrim) had arrived in the valley that day, in a rather pitiable state, and rather than being tended to, the Istar (wizard) had closeted himself up with her father for the greater part of the day. They had only emerged when the bell rang for the evening meal, and even then both had been silent and brooding for the most part. Her father, in particular, had been sitting under a dark cloud.

She had learned enough from questioning her father and Erestor, that a party of Periannath (Hobbits) had left Bree in possession of the One Ring, and that Gandalf had missed his meeting with them. She also knew that the Periannath had then taken up with Estel, and were being pursued by the Morgul-Lord and his Black Riders. The very thought made her heart clench with fear.

She also knew that something terrible must have happened to upset her father and Gandalf so.

Arwen knew that her father had sent out most of those who were strong enough to ride openly against the Ringwraiths to search for them, including his seneschal, (not to mention refusing her offer to seek them out), but something told her that it would not be enough.

But she knew who she could trust to ensure that the besieged company reached Rivendell.

It was time for the Slayer to put aside whatever feud had developed between her and Aragorn, and to return to meddling in the affairs of Elves, Men, Wizards, Dwarves and Hobbits.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

__

The East-West road, 3018, TA. October 18.

Buffy, riding hard along the East-West road, nearly fell of her horse when the voice echoed through her head.

Relaxing when she realised that it was only Arwen, she mentally snarled back, 'A little warning would be nice before you did that, you know.'

'Buffy, the One Ring is on its way to Imladris (Rivendell),' Arwen mind-spoke to the slayer, her urgency cutting short all pleasantries, 'Aragorn is with the company, but he will not be enough to ward off what is coming.'

'I'm sure Aragorn would disagree,' Buffy thought wryly.

'Buffy, they are making for the Ford. You must help them,' Arwen insisted, trying to convey her need to her friend. 'You must put aside whatever anger you harbour towards Aragorn, and do this task. The future of Middle Earth depends on it. Sauron must not, _cannot_, regain the Ring! He will cover all the lands in a second darkness!'

'It wasn't like that. I was never angry with him. Okay, that's a lie.' Buffy admitted, 'But he so deserved it. It doesn't mean that I'm gonna let him get killed though. I've been riding for days, with very little sleep, just because some stupid powers decided to distrub my sleep to deal with wizards up to their eyeballs in trouble, lost rangers, and a group of starving hobbits, so that's why I'm all cranky Buffy.'  
  
'Not too tired to fulfil your duty?'

'I woke up exhausted. There's really no more exhausted to get.' Buffy replied, 'But I'm a slayer, nocturnal type person and all that. I'll manage. Now where are they?'

'Nearing the Last Bridge under heavy pursuit,' the reply came, causing Buffy to wonder.

'You are in Rivendell, right?' Buffy asked, 'So how do you always find out this stuff? Do you have a Mirror tucked away there somewhere?'

'This pretty head know a lot,' Arwen replied, mimicking Buffy's way of speaking, 'But you must hurry Buffy, they do not have much time. You must intercept them ere the Black Riders do. Death stalks them.'

'It stalks everyone,' Buffy answered.

'There is going to be trouble,' Arwen warned, 'And even I cannot see what form it will take.'

'There's gonna be a lot of trouble. And I say, bring it on.' Buffy replied, as Arwen's presence left her mind, and the slayer urged Mîr (jewel) into a swifter canter, and hoped to Eru that she would make it in time before one Mr Witch-King retook the One Ring for his master.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Satisfied that she had done all she could for them at the moment, Arwen soon fell into ponderous thoughts, as the knowledge that Aragorn was heading for Rivendell after so many years of absence was now certain.

She knew that he had had some massive disagreement with Buffy and Legolas, and that it had fractured that abiding friendship, perhaps beyond repair. She still did not know the particulars, but her heart had been uneasy since she had last seen her betrothed.

The war for Middle Earth was beginning, and the time had come for Aragorn either to reclaim the long dormant winged crown of Gondor and Arnor, or to fall in Sauron's wake with all that was left of his kin.

And the time had come when her fate must be decided. If they won, her ada (dad) would have to hold to his promise, and offer her hand in marriage to Aragorn if that was still her wish. If they lost, she again had to make a choice; to stay by the side of her betrothed or flee to the Havens with the rest of the Eldar ere Sauron made Middle Earth his own.

The only problem was that her heart was not even as sure as it had been when she had pledged her troth with Aragorn on the hill of Cerin Amroth, so many years ago in the reckoning of Men.

Back then, Aragorn had had a large claim on her heart, and she had been very much in love with him.

But in the last few decades, doubts had crept into her heart and taken root there. Aragorn was not the only man to lay claim to her heart. An ellon (he-Elf), had clawed his way in against all reckoning, and had for a long time resided there without her knowledge.

And if he had not made a slip in years past, she would never have learned of his regard.

Or her own return of it somewhat.

Her heart was torn greatly, though she endeavoured to hide it from her father and brothers, all of whom were weary with the weight of many burdens as the days darkened. She did not want them to fret over her at all; her mind was sound, even if her heart was conflicted, and she would sort this problem out without their knowledge.

Legolas Greenleaf….

He was fair beyond even the measure of the Eldar, but that was not what had gained her attention. She knew all too well the false affections beauty could inspire.

He was reserved amongst company, ever the image of a dignified Elven Prince, unless he was close friends with them and then he came to life. Smart, witty, generous, kind-hearted, cunning when he had need, brave, skilled in battle and in court, and fastidiously loyal; to his friends, his kingdom and his father. He had even survived his mother, Yávien's tragic loss, just as she had had to deal with her mother's torment and departure to the Undying Lands. He did have many good attributes, but she had found herself more and more disregarding what faults he did have.

He could be stubborn, extremely so, but to anybody who had lived with Elrond Peredhel (Half-Elven), stubbornness was a way of life. He also had an excessive disregard for his own safety, which she knew exasperated Thranduil to no end. He held too much to what was expected of him, and what he perceived was his duty, and was therefore not as high spirited as her brothers or herself in public.

But he had done what only one other had ever managed to do, and touched her heart.

And now that the time of her choice was upon her, she had to work out her feelings ere she made a mistake she would regret deeply.

Aragorn was on his way to Rivendell, and during his stay she would have to assess her feelings for him, and decided whether to hold to her betrothal, or break it.

And may the Valar help her to make the right choice.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

__

Near the Last Bridge, near Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 19.

Guided by Arwen's directions, Buffy caught up with the fleeing group on the eve of October nineteenth.

Reaching the crest of the hill, she saw first the white horse and then the golden hair of Glorfindel, and then three small figures that had to be the hobbits. On closer inspection, she realised that the only dark-haired hobbit there, the one from her vision, was lying atop of the horse, slung over like a sack of potatoes and kept on only by the mount's careful steps, and his companions watch-guard.

Spurring Mîr into a canter, Buffy headed towards them.

When Aragorn saw a rider on a black horse approaching, he had his sword drawn in seconds, and the three able-bodied hobbits followed suit. Glorfindel soon calmed them though, his sharp Elven sight soon descrying the rider's identity. "That is no Black Rider," the Elvenlord said, "That is Dagnir (slayer), an Elvellon, or Elf-friend in the common tongue. Lower your swords, she brings no threat to us."

Aragorn looked at the Elf, and trusting his judgement, sheathed his sword. So Buffy had once again turned up in just time to witness what was bound to be some unrivalled chaos and peril. Why was he not surprised? He did not know how to handle her though; they had not spoken in ten years, and while he grudgingly accepted that he bore some of the fault for that, his pride would not let him apologise.

And yet, it would seem that fate made sure to throw them together more often than not.

The blonde woman swiftly caught up with them, "Glorfindel, mellon nín (my friend)," she greeted, "How nice to see you. I heard you were out hunting some Nazgûl, so I decided to see if I could join in."

"Your presence is most welcome here, Dagnir," he replied, his eyes straying to the silent and dour figure of Aragorn.

The hobbits were openly gaping, "We thought you were one of the Black Riders," Pippin blurted out, as he looked at the large black warhorse.

"I take it you must be the Halfings, right?" Buffy asked with a smile.

"We're called hobbits!" Pippin protested indignantly, causing even Aragorn to smirk.

Glorfindel made the introductions, "Hiril (Lady) Buffy, also called Dagnir (slayer), these are masters Peregrin Took, Meriadoc Brandybuck, Samwise Gamgee and Frodo Baggins of the Shire." At the last name, he gestured to the figure on his horse.

"Hi," Buffy said with a little wave and dismounted, making her a much less imposing figure, "One of the little skulkers got him, right?" she asked quietly, looking at Frodo's still figure.

"The Witch-King," Aragorn said quietly, causing Buffy to look at him strangely for a moment for willingly speaking to her.

"He's the one, then?"

"Yes," Glorfindel said softly, "He bears it still."

"They're hunting it, hunting you. I can feel them nearby. There are five wraiths behind you. Where the other four are I don't know. But I'm guessing they're going to be making an appearance soon."

"We are trying to make haste but the perian (hobbit) is in a bad way." Glorfindel said.

"Well then, let's get moving. Anyone who's not having fun here, follow me." she said, and after Glorfindel backed her up, the small group started to head for the Ford of Bruinen, hoping to get there ere the wraiths did.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

While Glorfindel led the way, guiding Asfaloth, Aragorn dropped back to walk beside Buffy, who was covering the rear.

It was time to put aside some old grievances.

They walked in silence for a couple of minutes, before Buffy finally broke the strained silence. "Have you got anything to say for yourself? Or are you just trying to annoy me?"

"Buffy…" Aragorn began, not meeting her eyes, "I think that we should work past our grievances, for the sake of the Periannath (hobbits). There is not one reason why we cannot work together against the Enemy."

"You're right…" Buffy agreed, "There are about a thousand. Is this your idea of some really lame apology?" 

"I am apologising for nothing. You lied to me."

"By Eru! Get a grip, Aragorn. Nothing happened between me and Legolas, and even if it had, it would be no business of yours whatsoever!" Buffy exclaimed in renewed anger, trying to skewer the unabashed ranger with a fierce glare. "I really can't hurt you, so I'm just gonna have to settle for hating you. I don't forgive little rants like yours without one hell of an apology." she hissed, ten years worth of bottled fury coming to the fore.

Cocking her head to the side, her eyes widened as she picked up on something, and she turned to the bemused ranger. "Look, this isn't the way I wanted it, but something's come up, something big, and we don't have much time. So this has to wait for another time. You understand?" she said urgently.

"Not a word you have said so far." Aragorn replied. 

"Well, work on it!" Buffy cried, "'Cos we have to get to the Ford. We've got incoming nasties!"

Running to the fore of the group, she quickly apprised Glorfindel, whilst Aragorn tried to process her words. When he realised what she was hinting at, his face became grim and pale. He would not allow the Black Riders to take the hobbit for their own.

He could not compound Isildur's mistake.

For good or ill, the Ring had to reach the safety of Rivendell.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

__

The Ford of Bruinen, 3018 TA, October 20.

Long had they toiled in the night, stopping only for the briefest of rests and the three warriors amongst the group all aware that the Black Riders were closing in on them with every passing hour they remained so exposed in the open. Only the Bruinen could save them now, but the hobbits were unused to such swift and tireless travel, and they slowed their pace considerably.

Aragorn, unable to sense the Nazgûl's proximity to the company, had been relegated to guarding the rear, and coaxing on the hobbits, while Buffy and Glorfindel led from the front; ever bending heads to whisper to each other, talking over the trouble that they both sensed was coming for them.

At the next break, Glorfindel once more checked on Frodo in concert with Aragorn and Buffy, all noticing that the brave hobbit was hanging onto consciousness by a thread, and he spoke to warn them of what he foresaw. "Our peril will be greatest just ere we reach the river, for my heart warns me that the pursuit is now swift behind us, and other danger may be waiting by the Ford."

"It's a perfect place for an ambush," Buffy agreed, keeping a sharp eye on Merry and Pippin who were conspiring together over something, "If there's some of the Nazgûl waiting for us there, we won't be able to cross, and then the rest would come behind us to block us in."

Aragorn also nodded his agreement, "Our only hope is speed and stealth."

"Stealth is not going to work. They _know_ we're coming." Buffy disagreed, and then Aragorn watched as she stiffened, one hand pressing against her side, and the other flying to the hilt of her sword.

Buffy's skin crawled, and the place where she had been stabbed with a Morgul blade was so cold it burned to the touch. The Witch-king was near, she knew this. For better or worse, all those that were touched by his poison could sense his presence. The Black Riders were closing in on them, preparing for the final strike… "They're already here!"

The sole Elf amongst them also sensed the evil gathering, and in dismay, Glorfindel turned and listened, then he sprang forward with a loud cry, sending the company into a flurry of action and slapping Asfaloth on his hindquarters, "Fly! Fly! The enemy is upon us!" he called, drawing his own sword.

The white horse leaped forward at his rider's command, jolting the sleeping hobbit astride him into awareness, "Ride forward!" Glorfindel said to Frodo, "Ride!" he urged the near senseless hobbit and then realising his efforts were useless, he issued his commands to his beloved mount, "Ride on! Ride on! Noro lim, Asfaloth, noro lim, (ride fast, Asfaloth, ride fast)!"

From the cover of the trees, sprang forth five of the Black Riders, and the other four emerged from the opposite side, having come from the ford at their Captain's call. Glorfindel's faithful white horse raced forward, with Frodo barely clutching on, the brave stallion swiftly reaching full speed as he headed for the Ford of Bruinen.

Sam cried out in fear and dismay, "What are you doing? The Black Riders are out there!" but neither Buffy nor Aragorn questioned Glorfindel's decision.

Not even they three together could manage to hold off all the Nine at once, whilst protecting the Hobbits. They could have made a stand, most definitely, and the warriors would probably have lived, but the untried, untrained and innocent hobbits would have been the casualties.

No, Frodo's only chance lay in Asfaloth, nothing could save him, if the white horse could not. Even the valiant Mîr, the magnificent Elvish warhorse that was a gift from Elladan, descended from the Mearas of Rohan, could not have outridden all the Nine. Already at full canter, and their mounts as twisted as they themselves were for better endurance, they were too swift to overtake in a straight run and too many to oppose when gathered together.

Springing aside, they let Asfaloth gallop by, and then they had to stay by the side of the road or else be ridden down by the Nine. But Buffy was the first to notice that Frodo was beginning to slip off his horse, and if someone didn't help him soon, he was going to fall to the ground before he ever caught sight of the river.

Leaping onto Mîr, she urged the spirited mare into a canter, calling to the others, "Out of the way boys. Leave this to the professionals."

From behind her, she could hear Aragorn's exasperated roar for her to come back, but she ignored him. "Frodo can't make it across without help, and I intend to give it to him in spades!" she shouted back, urging Mîr to go faster.

Dodging into the forest, she took the shortest route to the Ford, generally only known by those who had both lived in Rivendell for some time, and had superb control over a horse. But Buffy had not ridden with the Rohirrim, the best riders of Men in Middle Earth for nothing and the path was easy enough to her, her short height letting her avoid being knocked from her seat by low lying branches.

Speeding through the canopied forest, she hoped that she would make it in time. If Frodo fell and the One Ring was retaken by one of the Black Riders, Middle Earth wouldn't stand a chance.

And only the Elves would be able to flee to the Havens.

The race of Men would either be enslaved or die.

She would die herself before she let that happen…

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Buffy let out a sigh of relief when she saw Asfaloth standing proudly in the middle of the Bruinen, his frail rider still clinging onto the white mane. But with so much at stake, and with the fact that they could all feel the One Ring, so close, and almost within their grasp, they would follow him wherever he ran. They would not let the hobbit escape.

The Nazgûl, neither living nor dead, hated running water as a rule, but for the acquisition of the One Ring, it was only a minor inconvenience to them.

Suddenly the foremost rider, the Witch King of Minas Morgul, Buffy knew, spurred his horse forward. It checked at the water and reared up.

With a great effort Frodo sat upright and brandished his sword. "Go back!" he cried, "Go back to the land of Mordor and follow me no more!" From the shadows of the trees nearest the ford, Buffy watched the challenge with interest, and waited for the moment to strike.

His enemies laughed at him with a harsh and chilling laughter, "Come back! Come back!" they called mockingly, "To Mordor we will take you!"

"Go back!" he whispered, so that Buffy could barely hear him, and she was no less than fifteen feet away.

"The Ring! The Ring!" they cried in deadly voices, akin to a war cry and Buffy knew that it was time to act. Immediately the leader urged his horse forward into the water, followed closely by the others.

"By Elbereth and Lúthien the Fair," said Frodo with a last effort, lifting up his sword, impressing the slayer with his determination even in such a weakened state, "You shall neither have the Ring nor me!"

"I think what my friend's trying to say is: 'Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah!'" Buffy said, urging Mîr into the water, and coming alongside Frodo, who literally sagged with relief at the sight of her.

"_You_!" The Witch-king cried in chilling anger, recognising his previous foe, "Do you never die?!"

"Well, I do," Buffy said, mock thoughtfully, "But I'm kinda bad at the staying dead part. Kinda like you actually. Wanna come play? I've brought toys." she said, waving her sword around.

Buffy winced at the eardrum shattering shriek that the Morgul Lord let out at her words, "Way to go Buffy," she muttered, "What a way to make them totally mad!" she mentally congratulated herself for her usual aplomb at walking right into trouble, but then decided to buy Frodo some time.

Nudging her own horse forward, she plonked herself firmly in the river between Frodo and the wraiths and flashed them a bright, chilling smile. "Okay boys, so who wants to party?"

"You will die for this insult, woman!" the Captain of the Black Riders snarled.

"Really? And why were you trying to kill me before, then?" Buffy said insolently, coupling it with a 'butter wouldn't melt' smile.

"Give us the Ring!" the riders cried, their horses rearing up in response to their anger.

Buffy glanced behind at her at the swiftly wilting Frodo, knowing that he wouldn't last must longer. It was time for some distractions.

Speaking to Frodo, she urged him to go, "Go! I'll hold them off! Get into the valley! The power of Elrond will protect you then! Go!"

And then she gave her orders to Asfaloth, "Noro lim! Noro lim! (ride fast) Tolo i Imladris! (come to Rivendell)" The white horse took off for the valley, and Buffy was satisfied that it would carry out her commands.

Turning back to the Black Riders, who were all but frothing at the mouth by this time, she drew and raised her sword, "You want the ring, you dogs? Come fetch!" she challenged.

And with several high pitched shrieking cries, the Nine plunged into the water, intent on cutting down the small woman who stood in the way of their path to the One Ring…

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**A/N:** So? Opinions please! Feedback is totally welcome! Please READ and REVIEW!!!

**P.S** - As you all know by now, I have been nominated for the My Precious Awards, so a big thanks a million once more to whoever did it! Please my lovely darling reviewers and readers, vote for me!! (bats eyelashes and dangles free Aragorns and Legolas's… now throwing in Boromir and Faramir action figures too….)

It's the _2004 MPA (my precious awards for LOTR fanfiction excellence)_

The link is here: (just remove the spaces!): http : elvenlords . Net / MPA / mpa . htm

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**Thanks to my darling readers, First Knight was in first place last time I checked, so a mega, super appreciative thanks a million goes out to everyone who already voted! All of you who did are absolute darlings! Thank you again!**

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Next chapter: - The Black Riders get an unexpected challenge… Aragorn eats humble pie… Arwen gets a revelation… Rivendell is threatened by a soon to be severe food shortage… and Gimli has an apoplexy.

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Elvish:

Andúnië - Sunset

Mîr - Jewel.

Peredhel - half-Elven  
Mae govannen - well met

mellon nín - my friend

Undómiel - Evenstar

Mithrandir - Grey Pilgrim

Istar - wizard

Periannath - halflings/hobbits

Estel - hope

Imladris - Rivendell

Ellon - he-Elf

Dagnir - slayer

Elvellon - Elf-friend

Hiril - lady

Perian - hobbit

Noro lim - ride fast

Tolo i Imladris! - come to Rivendell

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Aman - also called the Blessed Realm, Valinor or the Undying Lands. Home of the Elves in the West.

Bruinen - translated: Loudwater. The river bordering the valley of Rivendell. It is under Elrond's sway and he can make it flood at need.

Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

Cerin Amroth - 'Amroth's Mound' in Sindarin.

Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

Eärendil - Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth.

Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

Yávien - The name of Legolas's mother and Thranduil's queen. in this story. (fictional of course). Translates to 'Autumn'. She was slaughtered by orcs who recognised her as Thranduil's Queen, and her body was dumped back in the forest for the Elven patrols to find, as a message and a warning for Thranduil.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
(¸.·'´(¸.·'´ '·.¸)' ·.¸)  
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( ·.¸  
·.¸ )  
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(.·´.


	21. Many Meetings

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Rejoice my dear readers, for the time of the Fellowship is upon us at last! All the characters are gathering, the author is plotting and the excitement builds as we come closer to that blessed event!

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P.S - As someone told me that they were actually getting USED to my cliffhangers, I have taken up the challenge to make them meaner, nastier, more unpredictable and did I mention EVIL!!!! Ye have been warned. Ye awoke the demons in the author's head. Yet ye all beware!

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Review responses:

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Anna - Thanks! But confronting how they feel? My version of Aragorn?! Are you kidding me? You know his motto is 'it's not worth doing unless I can do it in the most excruciatingly hardest way possible in the entire history of Arda'!

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Cristina - yes, Aragorn's problems are only beginning….and I LOVED writing little Éowyn! She was just too cute! No, the Nazgûl thrown off the Bridge of Khazad-dûm was unfortunately not the Witch-King. If it had been, our troublesome duo wouldn't have gotten out of Moria. And as for all other fics that I am working on, none affect my commitment to First Knight, and chapters will be coming out every week as per usual! And you do know that you only jinked yourself when you called THAT the 'one of the meanest cliff hangers ever'. Especially since I've got so many more even more mean ones planned!

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DragonStar - Never fear, Gimli appears in this chapter!

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emerald sorceress - aww! Thanks! Aragorn's 'kick in the backside' will be coming shortly. Everything going smoothly? If you've been reading this fic, you know that _never_ happens!

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FallenStar2 - That's because it was cut off. This chapter was supposed to have been the end part of the last chapter, but it got too big and I didn't have it finished so I posted what I had. And I hope you didn't fall off that seat yet!

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goldenshadows - (staggers back in utmost horror) You're getting USED to my cliffhangers!!!!!! You do realise this is just more incentive to make them nastier, don't you?

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Gracie - soon…

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Haley - No, not Buffy. Think… family grudges…

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JeanB - did you really think she'd miss something so important?

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Lunawolf - Thanks! And Boromir's not that bad!

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Malfeus - awww! You're so sweet!

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Mari - yes, Merry and Pippin are more perceptive than some people give them credit for! And thanks!

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MiShA - Thanks! And I always try to stay true to Buffy.

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N/A - you should know that I'm cruel with the fluffies! And what is 'kebbler'?

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Pamie884 - Thanks! Your comments mean a lot!

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Phoenix83ad - cut out the flood? Now why would I do that? And things get very, very wet! Well, I don't actually know if Arwen had that power, but both Elrond and Galadriel had it, and you could probably argue that Celebrían and Celeborn would have had it as well, so I gave it to her. I'm planning on using a combination of book-verse, movie-verse and my imagination-verse! Yes, a lot of the vision was from the movie. Thanks for reviewing!

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Queen of the Myrmidon - Sorry, but what mistake? I've checked over my chapter and can't find it.

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Queen of the Paperclips - thanks! The pairings start to get more solid in this chapter! And is there problems with your access?

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Restive Nature - Thanks a million! Yeah, I know! Gandalf never seemed to get a scratch! And you just write the sweetest reviews! Which are always totally cool! :)

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Sparky24 - Thanks! :) And everything was not to like about Tom. He was like ME's version of an overdone Santa Claus, except no presents!

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Star - Thanks! And yes, Buffy and Arwen are on a pretty even keel. Aragorn is the only wilfully dense one in that group. And don't worry, Gimli will be featuring heavily from now on.

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Tanya the Insane & Aristarchus the Muse - I LIKE writing cliffhangers!

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TroublemakerQueen - Thanks! And I don't _deliberately_ try to make people go insane! It's just a fringe benefit!

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YuZira - sorry no Buffy/Legolas!

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And a big round of applause goes to:

Anonymous, Batgirl Beyond, DrummerGirl76, egastin77, gaul1, Lady of the Wood, moonbunny77, ms8309, Night-Owl123, Wild320, zayra,

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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: MANY MEETINGS

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"The heart has its reasons which reason does not understand."

- Blaise Pascal

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Imladris, 3018 TA, October 20.

Elrond's attention was already directed towards the ford when Gandalf burst into his study. "Elrond!" the wizard gasped, "The Nine are at the ford!"

"I know," Elrond said grimly, "And they are not alone. Glorfindel tells me that Dagnir, (slayer) Estel (hope) and a company of Hobbits are there also."

Gandalf's face whitened, "Dear Eru! They _must not_ regain the Ring!" he exclaimed, worry causing the deep furrows in his brow to deepen.

Elrond idly fiddled with Vilya, grey eyes shadowed, "I must flood the ford," the Elvenlord said solemnly, "The Ringwraiths will never be allowed to sully Imladris with their presence as long as I remain. But two stand in the way of the waters." The Elda looked at the wizard gravely, "Mithrandir, I must do it now. With no interference."

"I support you in this, mellon nín, (my friend)," the wizard agreed, "And I would aid you in your task as much as I can. But are you certain that they will clear the water ahead of the wraiths?"

"Buffy is nearly on this side of the Bruinen. And I have the utmost confidence in her skills. She will not let the One Ring escape her." Elrond explained. "The time of the Elves is over. Soon, few of my kindred shall remain, but Dagnir bridges the gap between the races as the Elves pass control of Middle Earth over to the race of Men. She will not fail in her tasks."

Closing his eyes, Elrond drew upon his own formidable power, and reached out to his valley. A soft glow emanated from him as he touched the Bruinen near its source to produce the cascade of waters that had been used to such devastating effect during the siege of Rivendell, in the second age, when the realm was newly founded.

"Nîn o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer!" Elrond cried, his deep voice resounding through the chamber. (Waters of the Misty Mountains listen to the great word: flow waters of Loudwater against the Ringwraiths!)

Elrond felt the waters, ever loyal to the House of Tuor, respond to his call, and the sound of the water building and gushing filled his mind as he directed it to completely flood the ford with ferocious intensity.

As he worked, Elrond could feel Gandalf subtly add some style to his labours, and he could not help but smile at the Istar's (wizard's) playful additions. Oftentimes, Gandalf had a very questionable sense of humour.

Feeling the flood rip through the normally quiet Bruinen, Elrond looked towards the entrance to his valley with some trepidation. "Come, mellon nín, (my friend), I fear that whatever the outcome, healing shall be needed."

And wasting no time to see if the wizard was following him, the Elvenlord swiftly headed to the Bruinen, gathering such of his healing staff as he could gather on such short, but urgent notice.

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The Bruinen, outside of Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 20.

As Aragorn watched Buffy blast by on Mîr (Jewel), the ranger resisted to urge to throw something at the back of that stubborn head. What in all of Arda did she think she was doing? This was the Nine, in close proximity to the One Ring! Not even Glorfindel, who dwelt in two worlds at once, could stand against all of them at once! And for all her skills, she was just a mortal woman.

No, never invincible. He had learned that all too well in the dark depths of Moria. Buffy could take them on all at once no better than Glorfindel. But that damnable pride and stubbornness of hers made for grim partners in the pursuit of common sense and rationality.

The Rohirrim had obviously had had an influence on her during her stay. She was even more hotheaded and fell-handed now than she was in years gone by.

And al the less likely to listen to him.

The Ringwraiths drew strength from the presence of their fell Captain, and the near certainty of gaining their goal. And they would not be killed save by their master's fall. Buffy's pursuit of Frodo, while admirable, could only amount to nought.

He knew that a wide rift had parted him, but that did not stop him from caring about her. The dearest woman to his heart save for Arwen. He could not let her stand alone.

Moving to draw his sword, he made to follow the slayer but an unexpected hindrance prevented him.

Glorfindel's strong arm halted Aragorn from going to Buffy's aid, the golden haired Edhel (Elf) looked hard at the worried ranger, "She knows what she is doing, Dúnadan! Leave her be! Your presence will not aid her!" the Elf-lord said, "There is nothing you can do to help her but to let her follow her path! Now help us build a fire. Elrond will flood the ford, if the Black Riders try to cross, and we shall have to deal with any that are left on this side of the river."

Aragorn nodded shortly, his eyes straying to the ford where the golden rider upon the dark horse stood defiantly. Glorfindel was right, he would have to trust that the slayer knew what she was doing.

Hurrying to the small hollow where Glorfindel and the three remaining hobbits were gathered, he stepped into the shelter of the few stunted trees that grew there.

Aragorn hastily kindled a fire whilst Glorfindel fashioned several torches. Handing one each to the hobbits, the Elda kept two each for himself and the ranger.

At Glorfindel's caution they each kept their torches unkindled, as the Elda wished to wait until after the inevitable flood came down.

Hearing a low, but steadily growing, rumbling and whooshing the sound, the Elf and ranger looked at each other grimly.

The flood was coming, and soon after that; the battle to drive away the Black Riders.

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Standing in the middle of the river, wondering why the hell Asfaloth had decided to stop on the other bank and was not continuing on to Rivendell, Buffy wondered how she got herself into these messes.

As Mîr pranced nervously underneath her, Buffy watched the wraiths unflinchingly. The Witch-King's horse stood fully in the water, but the full Nine were not yet ensconced in that which they hated so much.

The Witch-king had slowed when he saw Asfaloth stop, and laughed, high and chilling, knowing that her plight had become more desperate if she could not even convince her charge to leave. They knew that Frodo was succumbing to his wound and to the lure of the Ring.

"Give up the Halfling, woman!" the Witch-King hissed, "There can be no escape from me!"

"If you want him, come and claim him." Buffy challenged, intent and deadly, ready and waiting for them to come.

The Witch-king snarled at this final insult, and restarted his previously aborted charge, seeing his prey now within his grasp.

As the riders plunged into the river, Buffy gasped as she heard what seemed to her to be an echo of words resound through the valley. "_Nîn o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer_!" (Waters of the Misty Mountains listen to the great word: flow waters of Loudwater against the Ringwraiths!)

Buffy sensed and saw the onrush of water and flinched. The Ringwraiths had to be dealt with but she couldn't risk Mîr to do so.

Dismounting from her horse, she delivered the orders to get to Rivendell and to try to take Asfaloth and Frodo with her, before turning to see the wraiths bearing down on her.

The Witch-King was all prepared to take a swath of flesh out of Buffy ere he sensed the flood bearing down on him and turned to look behind him.

Buffy took the opportunity to remove an old sword from its sheath, (meaning one that she wouldn't mind destroying too much), and rammed it into the Witch-King's side.

The high pitched shriek he let out at her actions was loud enough to render her temporarily deaf. Staggering back, she ducked the horse's madly stomping feet as the Black Captain reared in anger and pain.

She whirled, dodging his blows, and ignoring the mind-numbing effects of the entire group of Nazgûl, shrieking madly in their disastrous charge, and slammed what was left of the crumbling sword into the horse's neck, causing it to rear once more ere it fell to the ground, taking it's fell rider with it.

Sensing that the rest of the Black Riders were closing in and that her time to flee was running out, she tried to make for the bank of the river.

But she moved too late, and even as she waded desperately towards the bank, it let forth its master's fury.

With crushing force, the flood swept down on them, in the form of white foam riders, sweeping them away in its wrath, and casting them under the frothing waters.

Buffy choked on the freezing water as she went under, arms and legs flailing as she tried to figure out which way was up. Icy cold water chilled her to the bone, aided by the occasional times the wraiths or their beasts bashed into her.

Cursing her ill luck, she fruitlessly tried to fight the Elrond powered cascade, she felt herself being dragged downstream with the Black Riders. Not a good situation to be in by any account.

Her lungs burning for air, and limbs going numb in the icy water, she fought desperately to break the surface. And after several, gut-wrenching, painful moments, her head finally broke the surface of the water and she gulped in large amounts of sweet, sweet air, as she bobbed like a cork in the raging river.

Finally seeing some hope in this desperate situation, she felt a renewed burst of energy surging through her, and spotting the bank where Mîr pranced anxiously, she furiously swam her way over there, fighting against the fiercely dragging current that had already swallowed the Nazgûl.

Fighting against the current all the way, it was with weak and shaking limbs that she dragged herself out of the water.

Collapsing on the bank, she spotted Frodo still on Asfaloth, who had watched the proceedings with curiosity and she tried to speak, to urge him onto the care of Elrond, but her words only came out as harsh coughs.

Realising that she herself was in no shape to aid Frodo for the time being, she flopped onto the riverbank and hoped that Elrond would come to see the effects of the flood ere too long had passed and Frodo passed into the shadow world.

There had been more than enough wraiths near this river for anyone's comfort.

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The moment the flood had appeared, totally blocking their view of the opposite bank, the hobbits, Elf and ranger had all lit their torches and rushed out.

The hobbits hung back as Aragorn and Glorfindel took over the task of driving the remaining Nazgûl into the furious white rider tipped flood.

The hobbits could only gape as Glorfindel seemed to become something ethereal, glowing with a fearsome light, and the power in his gaze made even they who had no evil in their hearts flinch.

Caught between fire and water, and seeing an Elf-lord revealed in his wrath, they were dismayed, and their horses were stricken with madness. Three of the Riders' horses bucked and went wild and violently shying away from the Elf-lord, they inadvertently swept themselves and their riders into the flood, and the rolling waters carried them away.

Out of the corner of his eye, Aragorn thought he could discern a flash of black and gold amongst the waters, but dismissing it, he continued to drive back the Nazgûl.

The Elf and ranger whirled around the four remaining Riders, dodging their swords and slowly but surely setting each one alight and pushing or kicking the blazing forms into the swollen river. Even the ones who remained mounted, were now thrown by their horses and hurled into the flood and thus overwhelmed.

After the waters had carried away the last trace of flailing black figures, and the shrill, fell shrieks had died away, a sudden calmness reigned.

As Glorfindel and Aragorn continued to warily watch the water, as if expecting a wraith to suddenly surge out of it, against all odds, the hobbits sat down heavily, their legs weakening as their adrenaline rush passed.

"Does this mean we win?" Pippin asked, breaking the silence, his earnest and frightened face imploring the ranger to answer him.

"Yes, Master Perian (Hobbit). For now." Glorfindel answered, he being the most knowledgeable about the Ringwraiths amongst them, having fought them many times before, in this age and in the last, where their master's power had been at his height and so too had theirs in turn.

The servants of the Enemy knew to fear the name of Glorfindel of Gondolin.

"They should be rendered less dangerous now, and should be forced to crawl back to their master in whatever shape they may." he continued, his fair face grim, "But they shall not now trouble Rivendell again for a while at least."

"But what about Frodo?!" Sam cried, worry for his friend and master overtaking him, "And that girl that went after him? Where are they? I don't profess to be wise, lords, begging your pardon, but I only counted seven that we got rid of. What happened to the other two?"

Aragorn's troubled expression told Glorfindel that he too had noticed this, and that it bothered him greatly. "I do not know what became of the last Riders," the ranger answered, "But that woman is a warrior of great renown and prowess, and she has fought the Nazgûl before. I am confident that they did not get past her." he finished with conviction.

"And now we must wait for the floodwaters to subside ere we take any action." Glorfindel pointed out.

The wait seemed interminable for both Sam and Aragorn, but the others bore the wait somewhat better; Glorfindel, who the passing of minutes was but a drop in the ocean of time, and the younger hobbits whose naturally high spirits kept them entertained.

But when the flood subsided enough for them to make out the next bank, the group gave out a collective cry of dismay.

"Mister Frodo!" cried Sam, practically bouncing with the force of his concern, "What's he doing there?! He's supposed to be with the healers! Oh by the Green Dragon! Is he alive?!"

"He yet breathes," Glorfindel said, his keen eyes discerning the rise and fall of the Perian's (hobbit's) chest. "But I wager that owes more to the efforts of our valiant Dagnir (slayer) than to Asfaloth!" the Elf finished in frustration, glaring at his horse who idly grazed on the rich grass.

Aragorn gave a fresh cry at the sight of the crumpled blonde form, clearly waterlogged and giving out great heaving coughs every now and then.

"We must cross!" Aragorn said, turning to Glorfindel, "The danger is gone for now. When the waters recede then Elves can be sent to fetch the Periannath (hobbits)."

"Aye, we must move," Glorfindel agreed, "Elrond even now comes down from his halls, but he is not here yet, and the Perian (hobbit) does not have long left in him."

Turning to the Hobbits, the issued orders to stay precisely where they were, and then the duo braved the waters, crossing them swiftly and surely now that the current had eased, and soon reaching the far bank.

Glorfindel went to Frodo, chastising Asfaloth as he led the white mount deeper into the valley, heading for the House of Elrond.

Meanwhile, Aragorn went to Buffy, and found that mercifully, she was conscious. "Hi," she managed to croak, as he approached, another coughing fit seizing her.

"Buffy! What ails you?!" Aragorn said, running a trained healer's eye over her.

"Went under," Buffy gasped, her throat raw and sore, "Fought with King Sourpuss. Horse over there," she said pointing in the general direction, Aragorn noticing that her hand trembled as she did so, "I'm not feeling good. Weak, but okay in a while."

Aragorn checked her pulse for a moment ere he scooped her up, unable to offer his own cloak as it was mostly sodden wet, and cradled her close and at her unspoken insistence, went to check to see if the Rider's horse was truly dead.

"It's dead?" Buffy asked as Aragorn checked.

"Yes," he replied and stared at the corpse for several long moments without a word.

"Is anyone waiting for it to go 'poof'? Maybe we can cover it with flowers?" Buffy suggested in bemusement at his behaviour, holding her throat as it ached, "Remember? Got to go check on a hobbit?"

"And you have to let me check you out properly," Aragorn said sternly, and waving to the Hobbits on the far bank, he carried the slayer into the vale.

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The Last Homely House, Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 20.

'Twas a sight rarely seen in the serene valley of Imladris. But today was a delight for all lovers of gossip, and an object of extreme curiosity to the valley's guests.

First, the Lord of the Valley rushes out with the Lord Mithrandir, summoning Elves to him as he goes. Then the Lady Arwen rushes out, dress and hair in disarray as she ran. Next came a group of Elves carrying a stretcher and hurrying down towards the Bruinen, following their flying Lord and Lady. And then the respected Lords Erestor and Gildor, fresh from their inspection of the border patrol, had sped down the path which their lord and lady had followed.

And if such an unusual occurrence was not enough fodder, the return journey of all the Lords and Ladies was even more to be remarked upon.

First the Lord Elrond and a gaggle of healers and Lord Glorfindel came rushing up to the Last Homely House with a stretcher bearing a sickly halfling.

Then the Lord Aragorn had made for the halls, carrying the Lady Buffy, and walking alongside the Lady Arwen.

That conversation was startling enough for all who were close enough to hear.

"Hey! Sorry I'm late, Undómiel (Evenstar). You were so right. I hope these people realise that there was a Ringwraith parked outside their river," Buffy said to Arwen, gesturing at the gathered gaping crowd, slightly amused herself at the spectacle they were making.

"Was?" Arwen demanded, her fair face troubled with their near miss, "You killed him then?"

"Last I saw him, he was scampering back to his 'Master', probably to whimper out an apology and beg for the continuation of his wraithly existence."

After that they had passed out of hearing range even for the nosiest of Elves and the remaining onlookers had to content themselves with looking as Lindir led three more Periannath (hobbits) into the valley.

Really, with the influx of visitors into the valley, it was becoming quite crowded!

Everyone was here nearly, a party of Dwarves, a party of Hobbits, the Dúnadan himself, the Lady warrior Buffy… it was quite an array.

For the Dwarves they held an especial interest, as they had had dealings with halflings years ago, and said halfling now resided in this very vale. Now, as they did not like being kept in the dark about anything, all of them resolved to find out what was going on ere long had passed.

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You know I always stay up without sleepin',  
And think to myself,  
Where do I belong forever,  
In whose arms, the time and place?

- Avril Lavigne - My World

'Twas a bittersweet meeting of the betrothed couple when they were at last alone; sweet to be together again after so long and bitter because of the sorrow and darkness in which they met.

Long did they wander in Celebrían's gardens under a starlit sky, saying little but enjoying each other's company.

And then they each spoke of their years apart, and as they spoke, some of the weariness in Aragorn's face dropped away as he relaxed, and left the cares of the world behind him somewhat.

But for Arwen, this reunion, was heart-rending but sudden in its clarity. As she smiled at Aragorn, and listened to his easier flow of chatter, the Evenstar's mind was firmly revolving with plans, possibilities and affirmation.

She had seen Aragorn's heart, and had carefully examined her own in turn.

And at last she could be at peace with her choice.

For now she knew at last where her heart rested.

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Rivendell, 3018, TA, October 22.

Legolas Greenleaf flew into the courtyard of the Last Homely House in the early morn, two heavily armed guards following in his wake.

The Prince of Taur-e-Nelaedelos bore an important message for Mithrandir, of whom it was said now stayed in the House of Elrond and he had come hither bearing it, even though his conscience flayed him over his perceived failings.

The creature Gollum had escaped, and while Legolas only knew perhaps a fraction of the foul thing's importance, it was enough to know that it was an evil deed.

And the prince's shame and guilt over such a failure of the trust in which Aragorn and Mithrandir had placed in him was very great indeed. Not idly did the wizard and the Dúnadan hunt for seventeen years without cease.

Giving his horse into the care of a stable-hand, he ignored the looks he was getting from other Elves.

The woodland prince was not known to possess a foul temper, and even less known for allowing his emotions to be seen so publicly. And so the sight of him striding through the halls of the Last Homely House, countenance grim, and with the determined air of one who goes to his doom, was a most unusual sight indeed.

But luckily for Elrond, as it prevented him from having to deal with the prince's black mood, Buffy met him in the halls. And upon seeing his scowl, had hauled him aside to get him to dish the dirt.

"Suilaid (greetings), Legolas!" the slayer greeted, "And don't you look fit to flay a troll alive with that glare! What's the deal, mellon nín?) (My friend)

Legolas out of respect for his friend, did not pull away and permitted her to lead him along the halls and pull him into her room.

Down the connecting hall, Aragorn, coming from a meeting with Elrond, noticed her actions that grimly confirmed his suspicions of yore.

In her room, Buffy turned expectant eyes on her friend, "What's up Legolas? I don't think I've seen you so mad since that spider tried to rip out your hair!"

Legolas tried to glare back but failed as Buffy's good humour began to dampen his ire and reproach. "The Shadow is moving," he answered, "And through fault of mine, the Wood Elves honour and trust has severely been shaken."

"Unless you decided to shack up with Dol Guldur, I really can't see that happening," Buffy replied.

"I let Gollum escape," Legolas said quietly, not wishing to keep the truth from his long time friend and trusted companion and war-sister.

Buffy's sharp intake of breath told him all to clearly that she knew the significance of his statement. After a moment, she recovered her composure. "I highly doubt that you deliberately set him free, waved at him and said 'have a nice day!'" she said firmly, determined to drag the Sinda out of his self-inflicted guilt fest.

"His guards were slain. I appointed them and granted them permission to take the wretch outside. It is my fault."

"The guards were slain?" Buffy repeated, "Okay, I don't really see Gollum getting the jump on more than one Elf without getting killed himself. What really happened, and cut the 'I'm so guilty' crap, it doesn't become you."

"Orcs invaded the forest at night, and in the confusion, Gollum's guards were slain and he himself escaped. I believe it was a rout and that the attack was but a diversion to free the wretched creature." Legolas explained, azure eyes clouded.

"Then it is so not your fault," Buffy stated in a tone that brooked no argument, "What the Black Tower does is all Sauron's fault, not yours, despite whatever you've managed to persuade yourself into believing."

"Attempting to become a sage counsellor now, are we, meldiren?" (my friend) Legolas said in jest, feeling his spirits lift as she talked.

"Have you run into Aragorn yet?" Buffy asked, changing the topic completely, "'Cos I've heard his lame excuse for an apology and I wouldn't want you to settle for that either."

"You still have not mended things with him?" Legolas asked in surprise, knowing how closely Aragorn and Buffy's tasks were on some points.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Buffy said dismissively, "Relationship debris is kind of piling up on the Buffy highway. But it's okay, I'm over him."

"Fool others if you must, Buffy, but do not fool yourself." Legolas said solemnly.

Buffy waved it away, "It's a thing called positive thinking. Or else I have to get all depressed and mopey now that the lovebirds are under one roof again. Not to mention he's acting like a jackass towards me."

Legolas's lips twitched at her name for Aragorn but he said nothing, his own deeply buried pain barely visible even to Buffy's knowing gaze. "Don't worry about them," Buffy said brusquely, "We have so many more things to lose sleep over."

"Such as?"

"How about the One Ring being in the valley? Here, now and it almost got snatched before we reached the Bruinen." Buffy said, somewhat perversely enjoying Legolas's absolutely stunned expression.

"My adar (father) always said that the One had not passed out to the Sea as Saruman claimed," he said after a moment, "But what has Elrond to do with it? Why is he harbouring it in the valley? He has not the might to fight Mordor!"

"That's why there'll be a council soon as the Ring-bearer, a hobbit, - you know, the heir of the same one that had such a nice visit to your dungeons, - is well again. He got stabbed by a Morgul blade on Weathertop. He barely made it. And even now it's touch and go."

"You bear grave tidings indeed, Buffy," Legolas exclaimed, "And I wonder at their coming, as it has been my deepest dread for many years now."

"Well, consider yourself invited to the council. Elrond'll ask you anyway so it's cool," Buffy said, "Now tell me how things fare in Mirkwood?"

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In his chambers, Elrond Peredhel (Half-Elven) wondered what on Arda he had done to deserve this disaster in the making.

The (Prince) Ernil of Taur-e-Nelaedelos had arrived in the valley, finishing off the uneasy triumvirate that was Legolas, Aragorn and Buffy. All of whom, in his opinion, were still fighting after their last shouting match ten years ago.

And not to mention that said princeling was said to be in spectacularly dour form on his arrival, making him look that much more alike to his sire, Thranduil, when in bad temper.

To speak of that renowned sire, the Dwarves currently staying in his formerly tranquil vale were led by the same Dwarf that Thranduil had thrown into the dungeons with Thorin Oakenshield before the Battle of Five Armies.

Master Glóin and his son, Gimli, were unlikely to resist the chance to badger the son of the King who had wronged them, and with Legolas's somewhat mercurial mood at the moment, a surly Elven prince and a gaggle of Naugrim (Dwarves) could only spell disaster for the Last Homely House.

Especially as he could see no means of keeping them apart, so that the bloodshed could be kept to a minimum.

On top of those mountain of problems, Arwen was primed to declare her choice, a thought that caused Elrond's heart to clench with fierce pain, and Aragorn was now ripe to try to take the Kingship of Gondor and Arnor, and join the ranks of his illustrious sires of old.

And then just to ensure his insanity, the Valar had seen fit to saddle him with one meddling wizard, four hobbits, of which one bore the One Ring of Sauron, in his very home, his supposed sanctuary.

And now the Eye of Sauron was moving, and it was beginning to fix on Rivendell.

He really wondered if his treasured house was actually meant to be left standing after this invasion….

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Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 23.

After a stern lecture from his foster father, Aragorn had been forced to face up to a few hard facts.

Elrond had quite bluntly told him that his own ill thought out presumptions had been the main factor in the sundering of his friendships with Buffy and Legolas. The Elvenlord then dryly assured him that nothing of the nature he had suggested had ever occurred between the two concerned, and that Aragorn had done enormous wrong in losing his temper with them over nothing more than his own ill conceived notions.

The ranger had borne the assault with as much grace as he could, and he still could not offer his foster father a reasonable explanation for his shameful behaviour.

But Elrond had been very clear regarding one thing he had to do.

The wise Elvenlord had said that a war was coming that none of them might survive, and if he was prudent and cared for his friends, he would not let this matter rest between them for much longer. In other words, to swallow his pride and grovel for forgiveness if necessary.

There were times when Elrond was just too much correct for his own good.

And so Aragorn had humbled himself, and had decided to approach Legolas first, as he had vented his spleen on Buffy more harshly and he hoped that it would help him bolster his courage to apologise to the woman he had wronged so greatly.

Nervously knocking on the door, he heard Legolas's melodious voice bidding him to enter, and he stepped inside his friend's outer chamber.

Legolas froze in shock when he saw him and seemed on the verge of speaking but Aragorn beat him to it.

"Legolas, mellon nín (my friend), if I may still call you that," the ranger who could be king began, "I cannot express my shame at what I said to you before. Amin hiraetha (I am sorry), nín ernil, (my prince), I am truly ashamed at what I said to you, as you deserved none of it, and I accept full responsibility for my actions from that year. I cannot conceive what drove me to harm such a treasured friendship, meldir (friend), and I am so, so sorry for whatever hurt I may have caused you. I deeply regret my harsh words and accusations against you. I have no excuses, and I stand now, here before you, to face your judgement." the ranger finished and then waited for Legolas to speak.

"Is this apology to be extended to the honourable Lady Buffy as well?" Legolas asked warily.

Aragorn flinched at the accusatory tone, made all the worse because of the pain he had inflicted on these noble hearts, "Aye, I will grovel before the lady after I have seen if I can mend things with you, hir nín, (my lord)."

Legolas's keen eyes pierced him to the heart, "And do you still believe your words of ten years ago to be true?"

"Nay, I know full well that neither of you would be capable of such an injury, and I must again express my shame for saying them to you who has been ever steadfast as my friend."

Legolas looked at him gravely for a moment, far and remote and a true prince of the Eldar did he appear to Aragorn; fair as the dawn and cold as the deepest snows.

But then the Sinda smiled, and Aragorn felt his heart lift in hope. "I forgive you mellon nín, and your harsh words shall be as forgotten. I have dearly missed your friendship these years, and as the Shadow deepens, it is best for old friends to hold together." Legolas, smiling broadly. "And all shall be as it was, as soon as Buffy has heard your apology. You hurt her deeply, son of Arathorn."

Aragorn bowed his head, "I know," he said heavily, "And she deserved none of it. But I thank you for your generous forgiveness. I must confess that I came here prepared to grovel."

"The exiled king?" Legolas repeated, "Grovelling? That is not a sight I would wager ever seeing!"

"You would have seen it if you had not been so forgiving meldiren, (my friend), and I again must thank you for this."

"What is a few angry words amongst friends?" Legolas said, "The Shadow of the Enemy deepens, aran o Gondor (king of Gondor), and 'tis not wise for us to be squabbling amongst ourselves when his forces are moving. War is coming, and I would not see us sundered by a mistake of years passed."

Legolas's ominous words hung in the silence between them for long after they had been said.

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With the reminder of Legolas's foreboding words lingering in his mind, 'twas a more heavy hearted Aragorn that sought out the slayer later that day.

He found her newly returned from the training fields, completely recovered from her fall into the Bruinen, and now testing the stamina of the Elven warriors that wished to spar with her. She was carrying her sparring clothes, and was wearing a light, delicately embroidered dress of blue silk.

"Hiril (Lady)," he said, stopping her as she prepared to walk by, "May I speak with you for a moment?"

"What? Got some more interesting observations to share?" Buffy said in annoyance.

"Please, hirilen (my lady)," Aragorn pleaded, all the while noticing how the rush of anger added more fire to those blazing eyes, and how her cheeks flushed so prettily.

There was silence for a moment, and then Buffy nodded her head, and allowed the ranger to take her arm and lead her into a secluded part of the gardens.

"Buffy," he began nervously, not wanting to meet those injured hazel eyes but he forced himself to look at her, "I am so sorry. Words cannot suffice to say how sorry I am. I know I hurt you, and the very thought pains me, and I know that I have no right to expect you to ever forgive me, but I entreat for it all the same. I am deeply, deeply sorry for all the pain and accusations that I inflicted on you."

Buffy held his gaze for a moment, allowing him to see the hurt there, before dropping her eyes to her lap to study her fidgeting hands. "So you don't think I'm a lying, cheating whore?" she asked bitterly.

Aragorn visibly flinched at her words, and dared to place a consoling hand on her arm, "I have seldom regretted anything more, and if I could take them back, I would in an instant. But I cannot change what has already passed, and ask only for the chance to make amends in the future."

Buffy said nothing, and Aragorn reached out to intertwine his large, calloused hand with one of her small ones, "Hirilen, please, I beg of you. Forgive a fool of a man for his harsh words, and let him make amends to you as best as I can."

Buffy sat thoughtfully for a few minutes, gazing at their entwined hands with fond regret, and she knew then that she could not stay angry at Aragorn any longer. It had been ten years. That was a very long time to hold a grudge when you were just a mortal woman. It was time to put away the ghosts of the past, and concentrate on the future they would have to make after and during Sauron's fall.

"I forgive you, meldiren (my friend)," she said softly, and Aragorn felt a huge weight fall from his shoulders, to be replaced with elation. "As long as it doesn't happen again," she finished.

Aragorn laughed in elation, "Never again will I be so foolish, pen vell (dear one)," he vowed and such was his happiness at the restoration of their friendship that he clutched her to him and swung her around.

And as Buffy felt herself pressed up against him, her heart beating wildly despite every scrap of common sense telling her that it was hopeless, she realised that maybe she was not as over him half as much as she pretended she was.

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The Last Homely House, Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 24

The joyful news sped swiftly through the Last Homely House. Master Baggins, he of the dreadful Morgul wound, had at last passed through the shadow and awoke, thanks to the unceasing care of the Lord Elrond, the greatest healer this side of the Great Sea.

And word spread among the more well informed that a secret council had been called now that the hobbit was awake and that it bore news of some matter of great import. And so even as most celebrated Elrond's hard won triumph, and Frodo's recovery, there were those that bore the festivities with grim cheer.

But Bilbo Baggins, formerly of the Shire, was not one to be troubled over such matters, especially since he had more pressing concerns. "Ah this is a grand day for a party, my lads," he said, addressing his old friend Glóin, and his friends and of course, the three hobbits that had journeyed with Frodo. "My Frodo's up and about again, and Lord Elrond is throwing a right feast tonight in his honour! Let me assure you, my honourable Dwarves, that there is nothing like the food of Rivendell on a feast day! Better than the sweetest honey cakes of the Beornings I tell you!" the elderly hobbit said, cheerfully regaling his friends with thoughts of food.

"Do they have mushrooms?" Pippin asked eagerly, hooked on Bilbo's vivid descriptions of the many sumptuous dishes and pasties available in the House of Elrond.

Of course, Bilbo was totally unknowing of the dismay of a passing cook at his words.

Since the hobbits arrival, they had commenced trying to empty Rivendell's well-stocked pantries, and many of the Elves swore they had never met a race of beings who could eat so much!

Groaning aloud as he mentally ran over the stock figures, the Elf resignedly headed to Lord Erestor's office to explain why the foodstuffs were running so low.

May Eru curse hobbits and their appetites!

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The Great Hall, the Last Homely House, Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 24.

The feast was a splendid affair, what with so many fair Elven Lords and Ladies present; and the visiting Dwarf Lord and the company of by now infamous hobbits attending as well.

The Lord Elrond led them into the great feasting hall, his daughter, the Lady Arwen on his arm; wearing a cap of silver lace netted with small white gems that glittered in her raven tresses, and her soft grey raiment unadorned save for girdle of leaves wrought in silver.

The guests were shown to their seats, the visiting lords and the hobbits being seated at the high table with Lord Elrond.

Buffy, resplendent in a silky amethyst dress with silver tracery along the hem and sleeves, chose to attend the feast, wanting some serious catch up time with Arwen, and so the slayer seated herself by the lady, and very merry and high spirited was their corner of the table.

Bilbo had seated himself beside Frodo, foregoing his usual pleasure of interrogating Buffy on her visits to the valley, about the tales of her life and deeds, which admittedly did not always please the lady in question. And the Dwarves had then seated themselves about the small group of hobbits, and very loud and uproarious was their section of the hall.

That the Lord Aragorn was not present was remarked upon by many, for he seldom missed a chance to be with his lady, the beautiful Undómiel (Evenstar), and even rarer did he forego company when both the Lady Arwen and the Lady Buffy were in residence together.

Buffy, too, noticed his absence and wondered at it but Arwen soon informed her that Elladan and Elrohir had returned out of the wilds and that Aragorn had gone to speak to them about their errand. Buffy resolved to seek the twins out too, but she wanted to enjoy herself with Arwen first.

Presiding over the head of the table, Elrond watched as Legolas entered and joined Arwen and Buffy, and keenly did he scrutinise him and his actions towards the two ladies.

Galadriel was right, as usual. Towards Buffy, there was respect and deep affection, but towards his own Undómiel, there was definitely something more than friendship.

But his musings to that point were cut short when he noticed Glóin's eyes widen and the sudden furious whispering at the Dwarven section of the table, mixed with frequent glances at Legolas.

It seemed the brewing storm was about to come down upon Rivendell.

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Glóin had not paid much attention to the blonde Elf when he entered but he had heard Bilbo call him Legolas, and he could have sworn that he had heard that fancy prancy Elven name before.

Questioning Bilbo, the hobbit quite cheerfully replied that Prince Legolas was of Mirkwood, son of Thranduil, that greedy little treasure thief!

The Dwarves could hardly believe it when Bilbo spoke those words, and dark were their glances at the forest prince.

They could hardly believe that Thranduil's undoubtedly as foul tempered, greedy, backstabbing, as mongrel like as his father, son was in Rivendell at the same time as one of the Dwarves that Thranduil had unreasonably held captive in his foul dungeons.

Long did the Dwarves grumble over his presence, and over his sire's deeds before, during and after the Battle of Five Armies.

But while the elders did little more than grumble and glower, the seeds of ideas were planted in the mind of Gimli, Glóin's son, and his smile held more than just amusement at his father's mutterings.

He would see how Thranduil's brat fared against the cunning of a Dwarf if the Elf dared say even a word to them!

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The Last Homely House, Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 24.

Around two hours later, Buffy left the feast to seek out the twins. She knew they had been hunting for signs of the Enemy for some time now, and she wished to know what they had found on their travels.

Silently slipping into the twins' rooms, she greeted them softly as she entered and nodded at Aragorn, "I heard you were home, gwenyn (twins), and I came to see what news you bring."

"You left the feasting to come here? My, how dedicated we are," Elladan said laughing.

Whilst Elrohir said, "Suilaid, (greetings) Buffy, welcome. Sit."

"'Tis not good tidings we bring, Dagnir (slayer)," Elladan warned.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Buffy replied, seating herself beside Aragorn. "But spill anyway."

"The Enemy grows stronger and his spies are beginning to fix on Imladris. I think that word that the One Ring is here has gotten out. The time for making plans runs out." Elrohir said.

"Sauron will dare to assail Elrond if he thinks he can get the One," Aragorn said, informing her of what she doubtlessly could have guessed herself. "For better or worse, Rivendell's time is ending."

"The time of the Elves is ending, Aragorn," Elladan said sorrowfully, "And the time of Men begins. But there must be one more fight, one more war ere that happens."

"Only _one _more war?" Buffy said bitterly, "When do the wars ever stop? Only when you're dead from what I can see."

Silence reigned for a long time after that.

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The Hall of Fire, the Last Homely House, Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 24.

When all thoughts of strategy, tactics and warfare had been exhausted by the foursome, Aragorn and Buffy decided to go to the Hall of Fire.

They did not speak overly much, instead enjoying the comfortable silence between them as they walked, a welcome replacement to the strained tension that had pervaded their dealings with each other for the past ten years.

As they entered the Hall of Fire, both of them were called over to Bilbo, the elderly hobbit waving frantically at them. "Ah! There you are at last Dúnadan!" he cried, "And Lady Dagnir! Come! Come!"

"Strider!" said Frodo exclaimed as the duo approached, "You seem to have a lot of names!"

"Well, _Strider_ is one that I haven't heard before, anyway," said Bilbo, "What do you call him that for?"

"They call me that in Bree," said Strider laughing, "And that is how I was introduced to them."

Buffy's lips twitched, "A fat innkeeper calls him that 'cos he's always in a great big rush." she said, laughing at Aragorn's feigned annoyance.

"And why do you call him Dúnadan?" asked Frodo, looking at him curiously now.

"_The_ Dúnadan," said Bilbo somewhat impatiently, "He is often called that here. Nut I thought you knew enough Elvish to at least know dún-adan; Man of the West, Númenórean. But this is not the time for lessons!" he turned to Strider, "Where have you been, my friend? Why weren't you at the feast? The Lady Arwen was there." he added meaningfully.

"I know," Aragorn replied, "But often I must put mirth aside. Elladan and Elrohir have returned out of the Wild unlooked for, and they had tidings I wished to hear at once."

"And what of you Lady? Were the tidings to your liking?" Bilbo asked Buffy.

"You're not getting a word out of me, pen dithen (little one), I am not giving you any more ideas for those books of yours!"

"Why do they call you Dagnir?" Frodo asked, the name niggling at him and after a moment, he recognised her face, and the body that was not clad in the armour and ranger gear she had worn before, "You were the one that rode beside me!" he exclaimed.

"Yes," she answered and Bilbo cut her off before she could say any more.

"She is called Dagnir because she is a warrior of such renown. It means 'slayer' in Elvish. A fearsome thing she is too if even half the tales be true!"

Frodo and Bilbo soon moved on from the topics of the mysterious Strider and Dagnir, and moved onto discussing the intimate details of the Shire, in very small and particular detail.

Soon bewildered, Buffy turned to Aragorn, "Aragorn, do you have any idea what they're talking about?" she asked.

He shook his head in wonderment, "I think so?" he replied uncertainly.

"Good," Buffy said, "'Cos I don't understand a word either."

Soon the two drifted apart, and Buffy ended up by Arwen again, except in a considerably darker mood.

"Why do you mope so, mellon (friend)?" Arwen asked, grey eyes shining with concern for her dear friend.

Buffy just glowered, "I was not mopey." she protested.

"You are too mopey." Arwen replied in the exact same tone, "And I would know why."

"Look okay, I came, I saw, I was perky. Now, I just want my head on a pillow. Which doesn't look like it'll happening anytime soon." Buffy grumbled, trying to hide her real reasons from her all too perceptive friend.

"Something more bothers you," Arwen pressed but how could Buffy tell her that it was because of the resurgence of her feelings for Aragorn, even though she tried to stamp down on them?

Buffy being unwilling to talk and not in the mood for company, Arwen soon went to her father's side when he called to his beloved daughter.

For a while she talked with Aragorn and her adar (father) but those sharp grey eyes of her missed nothing in Aragorn's actions that night.

They were subtle but all too telling to those who watched for them.

As an oblivious Aragorn once more turned to his beloved friend Buffy for some advice that he sought instead of his long time love, Arwen and Buffy's eyes met across the room, and Buffy was the first to look away.

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A/N: Well? Opinions please! Feedback is always totally welcome! Please READ and REVIEW!!!

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P.S - To repeat what you all know by now, I have been nominated for the My Precious Awards, which is so cool! As the competition is really getting tight now, please my lovely darling reviewers and readers, vote for me!! (bats eyelashes and dangles free Aragorns and Legolas's… now throwing in Boromir, Éomer and Faramir action figures too….)

It's the _2004 MPA (my precious awards for LOTR fanfiction excellence)_

The link is here: (just remove the spaces!): http : elvenlords . Net / MPA / mpa . htm

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PLEASE VOTE!!!!! FOR ME OF COURSE!!!

Voting is from September 15th to October 15th. Please, please vote for me!!

Voting season is now OPEN! Even if you don't normally review, please, PLEASE, please vote for me!

Thanks to my super wonderful, super great readers, First Knight was still in first place last time I checked. But unfortunately, the competition is getting tight and roughly about ten votes separate the top three runners. So please every vote counts! And to anyone who has already voted, feel free to do so again if you wish!

Again, I cannot possibly thank you guys enough! So thank you. Diolla lle, mellyn nín!

Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya. May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky!

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Next chapter: More than one war begins, Rivendell witnesses a near mass genocide, Elrond gets a migraine, Aragorn gets a warning and a clue, and Elrond's guests have a little discussion…

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Elvish:

Imladris - Rivendell

Dagnir - slayer

Estel - hope

Mithrandir - Grey Pilgrim

mellon nín - my friend

Nîn o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer! - Waters of the Misty Mountains listen to the great word: flow waters of Loudwater against the Ringwraiths!

Istar - wizard

Mîr - Jewel.

Edhel - Elf

Dúnadan - man of the West

Perian - hobbit

Periannath - halflings/hobbits

Undómiel - Evenstar

suilaid - greetings

Meldiren - my friend

Adar - father

Peredhel - Half-Elven

Ernil - prince

Amin hiraetha - I am sorry

Nín ernil - my prince

Meldir - friend

Hir nín - my lord

Aran o Gondor - King of Gondor

Hiril - lady

Hirilen - my lady

Pen vell - dear one

Gwenyn - twins

Pen dithen - little one

Mellon - friend

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Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya." - May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky.

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Aman - also called the Blessed Realm, Valinor or the Undying Lands. Home of the Elves in the West.

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Bruinen - translated: Loudwater. The river bordering the valley of Rivendell. It is under Elrond's sway and he can make it flood at need.

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Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Eärendil - Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth.

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Gondolin - called the Hidden City or the Hidden Realm. Founded and ruled by Turgon, son of Fingolfin, in the First Age. Eventually destroyed by Morgoth.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Naugrim - 'stunted ones'. Elvish term for Dwarves.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

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Sinda - singular of 'Sindar'. It is one of the kindreds of the Elves in Middle Earth , and they are accounted as being amongst the Eldar.

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Taur-e-Nelaedelos - The name of Mirkwood in Sindarin. It means 'Forest of the Great Fear'. This is what Greenwood the Great (Eryn Galen in Sindarin) was named after the rise of Dol Guldur.

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Tuor - Elrond's grandfather, father of Eärendil, husband to Idril. Son of Huor, a lord of the Edain in the first age. Was sent to Gondolin as a messenger by Ulmo, Lord of Waters, to warn its king, Turgon, that Morgoth would soon find his hidden stronghold. Turgon ignored the advice but Tuor stayed on in Gondolin, wed Idril Celebrindal, the King's daughter, and sired his on. He escaped in the fall of Gondolin, and left Middle Earth for the West with Idril on a ship. 'Tis said that he alone of all the Edain was granted the life of the Eldar, and chose to be numbered amongst the Noldor, whom he loved, and that he still dwells west of the Great Sea.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	22. Revelations Part 1

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Thanks to everyone who voted for me at the MPA awards! Does anyone know who won in my category by the way? 'Cos I don't. It's been a while since I could check unfortunately. BTW, this chapter originally worked out at well over thirteen thousand words so for the sake of easier reading and posting, I will be posting the first half now and the second on Sunday, October 17th! Think of it, two chapters in one week! Yay!

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Review responses:

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - sorry, no other BtVS characters, and you think the worst Elrond can do is a lecture? (/cackles evilly in background/) Just you wait…

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Anna - thanks! And yes, Arwen is noticing big time!

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ChibiChibi - aww, thanks for that! And Arwen's choice is not far away now, nor is Aragorn's kick in the butt…

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Cristina - Helms Deep. _Someone_ has to screw things up for Théoden, and get rid of some certain rodents…

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DragonStar - He _hopes_ that he will live! And yes, I think 'chaos' is a bit of a mild term for what I'm planning….

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Gaul1 - yes, that is a mystery isn't it?

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goldenshadows - Thank you. I really like writing cliffhangers. I'm still upping the Evil factor though! And as for major character deaths, well no, nothing like that planned so far! And I don't _think_ I'm psychic!

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Haley - Definitely unpleasant I'd hazard!

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Jania - thanks a lot!

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JeanB - yes, I get you now. Buffy does tend to get distracted or wounded a lot. Hazards of the job I'm afraid! And don't worry there will be plenty of Dwarven POV in the ensuing chapters. And plenty of Elven POV too! Yes, Buffy and Boromir should be an interesting meeting, _once_ he finds out who she is anyway.

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Lady of the Wood - yes, Arwen's rose tinted glasses are gone bye bye.

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Lisette - O My God! My, this is really flattering! And from a peer, a fellow BtVs/x-over writer! Thanks! You're so sweet, and analysis is always welcome. And thanks for picking up on that mistake, I completely missed it. You see, the twins were originally slated for those roles, but when re-reading the canon, I learned that they had been out on errantry and couldn't have been there, so I had to change the names! Apparently I forgot to change everything!

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Lunawolf - thanks! And I get hyper too so don't worry about it! And I'm afraid that I have to let Arwen answer for herself on that one! And Boromir enters in this chapter!

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Malfeus - flattery will _definitely_ get you to the end of the story!

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Mari - I know what you mean….

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MiShA - you'd be surprised what else Arwen understands…

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Ms8309 - Thanks! And which shipping is your choice? Yes, Buffy was midwife to Boromir.

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N/A - Thanks! How is Arwen going to let him down? Find out next chapter! And I'd be very wary before celebrating anyone's impending happiness just yet! And yes, it's Arwen/Legolas.

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organized-chaos - Thanks a bunch! And I hope you're not still exploding. It sounds very painful! Yes, Aragorn is dense. But frozen salmon? Why would you hit him with frozen salmon?

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Pamie884 - Thanks a lot! And everybody seems to be looking forward to Boromir's intro!

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Restive Nature - thanks so much! :) and that 'animosity' you mentioned? I am SO going to have SO much fun with that! I wonder will anyone of you see what I have planned?… (cackles anyway) And you are so right about Buffy's life. I have so much more planned for her though… And Arwen and Aragorn come under heavy fire in this chapter!

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ShawThang - Dissention? Eru, you haven't seen anything yet. I plan to make WAR. And when do I ever make anything easy? But the plotline will take a twist soon! BTW, hoped you enjoyed your holiday!

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Silentchild10 - Yes, Buffy will be going! And thanks!

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sparky24 - Thank you! Keyword there in the Buffy saga is 'eventually'. Spanners must always be thrown into the works after all! And no, not the formation of the Nine just yet, the chapter would have just been _way_ too long if I had! But as a lot of the chapters from here on out involve me mixing the story with my plotline, your comment on it was really nice!

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Star - Thanks a lot! And that psychic streak is showing again… and it wasn't just you… But yes, Arwen's waking up now… and I never said Boromir lost the poll, he will live and he will die; just wait for _that_ plotline!

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Talliana - 'History Repeats Itself' is on the resuscitation table, and I don't know if it will make it!

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TroublemakerQueen - Thank you my dear! Yes, it's Ar/L and B/A.

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Wild320 - thanks! And you'd be amazed at what havoc I can screw up even with Arwen out of the way. Sort of.

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And major thanks to:

Batgirl Beyond, Ellie, harmoni9, Julie, Night-Owl123, Tkiwi,

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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: REVELATIONS PART ONE

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The Last Homely House, Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 25.

It was in the early hours of the morning that Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, rode into the hidden Elvish valley of Imladris, and was escorted to the halls of Lord Elrond.

Though the lord hailed from a magnificent city, of lengthy years, impressive and majestic buildings and royal lineage, Boromir had yet to see anything akin to the beauty of this Elvish vale.

All the lands within it were bright and fertile, unstained by the taint of Mordor unlike his own fair Ithilien, the people that dwelt there were wondrous fair and wise, and the very air of the place was so ancient and yet vibrant that beside it, the guarded city of Minas Tirith seemed like an infant in comparison.

One Elf from the border patrol had shown him hither and as he marvelled at the Lord of the Valley's fair dwelling, he lingered in the courtyard while his wearied horse, a gift from the Rohirrim when he had passed through that land, was led away to the comfort of the stables.

Hearing the clatter of hoofs on the cobbled stone, Boromir turned to look at the new arrival, instantly appreciating the magnificence of the dark mount on which they rode. But even the fiery horse's regal carriage and light step paled in comparison to their rider.

And so Boromir of Gondor first beheld Buffy Dagnir (slayer), swinging herself down off her fine mount with a grace not seen in mortal-kind. Clad in leather and armour she was, a glinting sword on her hip, and a bow and quarterstaff across her back, and she looked like a daughter of kings.

Golden hair like silk flowed out behind her, and hazel eyes glittered in an attractive face that bore the ageless look of one who had seen much toil and grief, mixed with joy and peace. Elven-fair she was, and of that race he would have thought her to be if it were not for her petite height and rounded ears, and Boromir wondered who she was to be so Elvish if she were of the race of Men.

A queen of Men from days long gone, ere Númenor had vanished under the sea, she seemed to him. Bright and bonny with the flush of youth, and yet wisdom and resolution were set upon her brow and in that sharp gaze.

And then that sharp gaze fixed on him.

"Hello," she greeted him, eyeing him curiously, "Why have you come to the house of Elrond?"

"I am Boromir, son of Lord Denethor, Steward of Gondor, my lady," Boromir replied graciously and watched curiously as her eyes widened and the corners of her lips seemed to twitch for some reason.

"I have seen the Steward before," she replied, that lovely face turning impassive, "Are you here for a purpose? The Lord Elrond has been very busy of late."

"Aye, I come to seek the Lord's counsel," he replied, "Surely he will receive me if only for a moment."

"I dare say that he will find time for you," the mysterious lady said enigmatically, "Seek out the Lord Erestor. He will find you an audience but I've got to go! Namárië!" (Farewell)

And so it was with no little bemusement that Boromir watched this little queen-like figure breeze into the halls of Elrond, seeming to fit in there in a way he never would.

****

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We're bored. Run for your sanity.

- Elladan and Elrohir's motto.

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The Last Homely House, Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 25. Earlier that morning

When Gimli, son of Glóin, had decided to take the time to torment the two Elven twins of Rivendell yestereve, he could never have foreseen the consequences…

Having gone to bed after a hearty meal and a lot of merrymaking with the Hobbits, Gimli had had a most pleasant sleep as a result and so when he awoke, he was filled with a pleasant lassitude and he stretched lazily, listening to the birdsong out of the window with only slight contempt for the Elves who insisted on windows and chattering birds everywhere they went.

Rolling over to get away from a particularly annoying ray of sunshine upon his face, he was highly irritated to discover that the sun was also on the other side of the bed.

Sitting up, grumbling about how this never happened at the Lonely Mountain, he opened his eyes, and nearly swooned back onto the bed in shock.

He was still in his bed, but that was the only thing that had not changed.

The chattering chirpy birds were a bare ten feet away, but of course, his rational mind pointed out, that was to be expected when one was outside.

For outside he was. Taking in his surroundings with all the grace of a fish out of water, Gimli could not believe this was happening to him, and as he looked around, he noticed that it was not only him afflicted, but his entire travelling party.

Looking down at the magnificent gardens of the Last Homely House, Gimli Glóin's son fumed as he realised that somehow he and his entire company had ended up on the roof of Elrond's halls! The roof!

Eyes narrowing into furious slits, the enraged Dwarf let out a roar of impending doom that could be heard by nearly every Elf in the valley.

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Elrond was in his study, going over some paperwork with Erestor and Glorfindel when he heard the outraged bellow that could only come from a Dwarf.

Managing to keep a somewhat impassive face, his chief counsellor eyed the ceiling in some surprise, "I was not aware that the Naugrim liked taking walks on the roof," he said, lips twitching with repressed laughter.

Elrond just barely managed to stifle a groan and instead shot his advisor a deadly glare, "The Dwarves were not supposed to be on the roof, meldiren (my friend)," Elrond said silkily, "As you well know. But I would dearly like to know why they are there. It appears that the Dwarves are not happy with their accommodations."

Glorfindel smirked at his long time friend and Lord, "Oh, but I dare say that our resident terrors are most pleased with these arrangements," he said knowingly, enjoying his torment of Elrond over his sometimes demonic children. "Now you only have to narrow down the list of said terrors. This valley has acquired so many after all…"

"Eru help me. I am surrounded by idiots," Elrond muttered, noticing Erestor's smirk at Glorfindel's words.

It was with much trepidation that Elrond and his two advisors ascended to the highest level of Elrond's abode and took in the undoubtedly strange sight there.

Elrond gaped at him in a most undignified manner, as did the other Elves. He had to keep himself from laughing; he never thought he would see Erestor's jaw on the floor.

"This could be a problem," The dark haired advisor muttered dourly. "This has to be the work of the twins… even Thranduilion would know better than this…"

Glorfindel just smothered a laugh, "You mean, Legolas would have ensured that they were dumped in the pond. Are you alright, Elrond? You look surprised."

"I do not know why," Elrond replied darkly, his face resembling a very ominous thundercloud, "I am furious. I will have to kill them for this." he swore.

"You will have to find them first," Erestor pointed out, "I doubt they are so stupid as to be easily found if they have truly done this."

A group of six livid Dwarves were standing on the roof, unable to get down, as a large pond lay beneath the nearest ledge to the ground, and they were too short to come the way the Elves had, dressed only in their nightclothes and clutching their axes in white knuckled grips while they were surrounded by the entire amount of furniture that had previously been in their rooms.

Elrond could only sigh and shake his head as he and his friends waded into the tricky business of trying to placate a group of battle ready Dwarves.

Glorfindel, as usual, took the direct approach, explaining the occasional madness that overtook some residents of the valley, without actually mentioning any names, and telling the incredulous Dwarves listening to him that they should treat this incident lightly.

"You do not have to be mad to live here but it helps." the Balrog slayer said cheerily, "So please Master Dwarves, do calm yourselves. We must get you off the roof ere anything can be hewed with your axes! 'Twas more than likely only a game by some children… a bit of harmless play…"

Glóin's eyes nearly bulged out of his head at those words, "This is no child's game. This is war!" he growled, "No one makes a fool of a lord of Erebor!"

Erestor visibly winced as a minor nuisance suddenly became a diplomatic incident, while Elrond only wore a frozen smile, and with a decidedly chilly countenance that boded ill for everybody, he departed to seek out the two most likely culprits.

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The expression of Lord Elrond when the twins entered was one that had made even Ereinion Gil-galad, High King of the Noldor, back down and the twins knew all too well that it boded trouble for them.

The twins though, were survivors many times over of their father's infamous death glares, and his skin shrivelling lectures, and so with all the grace of a connoisseur in their chosen field, the twins entered, shameless and fearless, to stand before their father.

"Suilaid Adar (greetings father.)," Elladan greeted him, soon echoed by Elrohir, trying to twin team their father into going lightly on them.

"I had thought you had outgrown this childish behaviour gwenyn (twins)," Elrond said severely, "You know what is at stake. You know what we risk. Will you alienate all who may help ere they have even heard our plight?!"

Elrohir, at least, had the grace to look somewhat ashamed but Elladan, being more brazen, was not. "Adar, everyone was so tense. Some levity is always needed in such situations and to make a point, you still have not yet told us of that which draws your ire."

Lord Elrond gave them a long suffering glower before asking the inevitable, "I know that you are responsible, ionnath nín (my sons) but what I wonder is how did you do it?"

"Do what Ada?" Elladan asked innocently, whilst Elrohir, knowing that the charade was long since up, just rolled his eyes at his brother's attempt.

Elrond's glare increased in its intensity and even the nearly immune twins felt the heat of it, "It seems, that by some phenomenon during the night, Master Gimli's, Master Glóin's and all the other parties of Dwarves' furniture was mysteriously removed to the roof of this house, suspended over the part of the roof overlooking a large pool to be exact. And with the Dwarves still within their beds." his voice turned menacing, "The Dwarves were not overly pleased and are currently threatening war. Now you will explain to me why you did this, or I shall make your lives miserable for the next thousand years. Understood?"

"Yes, adar," the twins chorused reluctantly.

"Why?" Elrond said in the long suffering tone reserved for dealing with his children's misbehaviour.

"I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it may incriminate, well, me." Elladan said, earning the larger part of his father's ire by putting himself forward again.

"You will answer me, ion (son)," Elrond said threateningly, "Or I shall let Master Glóin deal with your infraction. And as he is rather fond of his axe, I cannot guarantee that you will survive it with all body parts intact."

"They insulted the valley, ada (dad)," Elrohir said before Elladan could answer, "Glóin's son and companions were impugning upon our honour, besmirching the name of the Eldar and being very rude with regards to their observations. Revenge was needed, adar."

"Which you happily doled out, I presume? Or were others involved?" Elrond asked.

"No other was involved adar," Elladan said smoothly.

Elrond sighed, "I am afraid that as much as I would be lenient on you for you are my sons, I cannot in this case. You gave gone too far gwenyn (twins), and Master Glóin, as a noble guest, one of the line of Durin the Deathless, must have his say in this matter. I am afraid that the punishment decreed will not be pleasant for you or for me for the most part. But as Gandalf and Erestor are currently trying to persuade Glóin not to take this matter to Dáin, King Under the Mountain, I firmly believe that you will deserve every minute of it. And if teaches you humility and respect for others, all the better, ionnath nín, (my sons)."

As the details of their punishment was laid before them, the twins were suddenly reminded that their father could be just as wily and cleverly cruel as them, and he was proving that mastery now.

They were _never_ going to live this down…

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Later that day, Buffy was invited to join Elrond and Gandalf for a meeting of some kind. And she readily agreed.

She had taken the time to relax since her first meeting with the now adult Boromir. He was so different from the last time she had seen him, but then again, that had been a few decades but even from the moments she spent with him in the courtyard, she feared that Denethor's influence over him was too great.

Clad now in a loose dress and with hair unbound from her usual warrior braids, she entered the room to find Gandalf and Elrond surrounded by their own little bubble of tension, as if she had just walked in on a quiet argument.

"Mae govannen," she greeted them softly, conscious of Elrond's eyes lingering on her, "It seems that I just walked into the deep freeze, it's so cold in here. What are you two arguing about now?"

"The Ring," Gandalf answered, "And the future? What else?"

"Ah," Buffy said, nodding her head, "No big surprise there. So what's the situation anyway. I haven't had time to gossip since I came back from checking the river."

"The halfling's strength returns." Elrond began, sounding as if he had already said this before.

The disgruntled wizard was quick to dispute the Elvenlord, even as Buffy watched the by-play curiously. "That wound will never fully heal. He will carry it the rest of his life. There can be no reprieve for him on these shores."

Elrond's face was impassive, "And yet, to have come so far, still bearing the Ring, the Hobbit has showed extraordinary resilience to its evil." the Elda said, his point bitingly obvious.

Gandalf's caterpillar like eyebrows bristled in annoyance and fear, "It is a burden he should never have had to bear. We can ask no more of Frodo." he insisted, "Would you ask Dagnir to take on more peril and near certain death if she had been wounded so?"

"Hey, don't bring me into this!" Buffy protested, "If you want to have a match to see who has more testosterone, that's fine by me. I'll just wait until you're both sane again. But let's keep me out of this argument, hmmm?"

Elrond walked over to the nearest balcony, face troubled and it seemed that he was caught up in some foul memory as he watched the movements of his realm but after a moment he spoke, "Gandalf, the enemy is moving. You know this for truth. Sauron's forces are massing in the East. His eye is fixed on Rivendell. And Saruman, you tell me, has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin. I am Lord of this Valley, my first duty is to my people!"

"The White Wizard's treachery runs deeper than you know." Gandalf admitted, "By foul craft Saruman has crossed orcs with goblin-men. He is breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard. And of such strength and numbers that even Dagnir would think twice ere she thought of engaging them. An army which can move in sunlight, and cover great distances at great speed. Saruman is coming for the Ring."

Elrond's face grew even more grave at this, and Buffy herself felt alarmed. She had known that Saruman was messing with the mojo but creating super-orcs just wasn't fair.

"This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves. We do not have the strength to fight both Mordor and Isengard!" Elrond exclaimed after a moment.

Gandalf wandered off to the other balcony, with all the bearing of a man whose worst nightmare is starting to come true.

Elrond softened his tone, but not his stance. Buffy privately agreed with him, Rivendell could not hold out against Sauron and it was unfair that the burden should be placed solely on Elrond and his people. Especially Elrond, who already had the responsibility of trying to hide Vilya from Sauron's eye.

"Gandalf. The Ring cannot stay here. This peril belongs to all Middle-earth. They must decide now how to end it. The time of the Elves is over. My people are leaving these shores. Who will you look to when we have gone? The Dwarves? They hide in their mountains seeking riches. They care nothing for the troubles of others."

Gandalf seemed aware that he was fighting an uphill battle even as Buffy wisely kept silent, "It is in Men that we must place our hope."

Now that statement got Buffy's attention.

"Men?" Elrond repeated in bitterness and disbelief, making Buffy's eyes narrow considering she was of that race he was thrashing, "Men are weak. The race of Men is failing. The blood of Númenor is all but spent. Its pride and dignity forgotten. It is because of Men the Ring survives. I was there, Gandalf. I was there three thousand years ago…" the Elvenlord trailed off for a moment, lost in memory, and when he spoke again it was with all the bitterness and resentment of three millennia, "When the Last Alliance finally cast down Sauron, I thought that it was to be a new beginning. It all should have ended that day, but evil was allowed to endure. Isildur kept the Ring. The line of kings is broken. There is no strength left in the world of Men. They are scattered, divided, leaderless."

Even Gandalf seemed surprised at Elrond's outburst, "There is one who could unite them. One who could reclaim the throne of Gondor." he reminded him.

"He turned from that path a long time ago. He has chosen exile." Elrond said softly.

"No, he hasn't," Buffy interjected, "Okay, he might not exactly be itching to become King and all that, but he's not exactly gonna shun his duty. He'll do it if he must so could you please stop with the drama queen re-enactment? Not all Men are bad, remember Mr Peredhel (Half-Elven)"

Elrond sighed at her sharp tone, "I know Buffy, but he does it for love of Arwen, not for the right reasons."

"What better reason is there than love?" Buffy defended him, "Personally, I don't think it matters once my buddy Strider goes for the crown. Not to mention with all your lovely fighting, you've been trying to give me a headache, so let's leave the arguing until the council shall we? At least then we won't be repeating ourselves."

To her surprise, both Elvenlord and Istar (wizard) agreed, but as they moved onto more mundane matters, Buffy could not help but wonder why Elrond was staring at her so frequently.

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As was to be expected, the Dwarves were most wroth over their humiliation and were determined to get their own back, and so restore their honour and dignity.

Gimli had been the most passionate about this course of action, and had even identified the culprit to the rest of his enraged companions.

Of course when Glóin realised that it was Thranduil's get responsible for the morning's incident, all objections to the idea disappeared.

And so the Dwarves had plotted, planned and then waited.

Because the Prince of Mirkwood tended to be most well noticed amongst the inhabitants of Rivendell, it was but a simple matter to find where he was at any given time.

Legolas, for his part, had no idea that the fury of the Naugrim (Dwarves) was going to sweep down upon him unlooked for.

Elladan and Elrohir, absolutely furious over their father's unjust punishment of them, had tried many times that day alone to convince Legolas to join them in wreaking unreckoned with mischief upon the unfortunate Dwarves, but Legolas had declined as gracefully as he could, unwilling to get embroiled in something that had all the promise of being a very painful and undignified endeavour for all parties.

But when the strong wood of an axe whacked him forcefully in the stomach, knocking him backward, Legolas cried out, never expecting such an attack in the house of Elrond.

Losing his balance, he fell backwards and landed with an almighty splash into one of the many waterfalls in the confines of the valley.

Resurfacing and gasping in the air unceremoniously stolen from him, he soon heard the great rumbling sound of deep, Dwarven laughter.

Abruptly those silver-blue eyes of his narrowed, and taking on much of the look of an owl had has just spotted a particularly juicy mouse, Legolas looked around.

No less than twelve feet away, stood that pack of unruly Dwarves, laughing uproariously at his plight. Very suddenly, he had a new appreciation for the twins' actions.

"Not so mighty now, are we Elf boy?" the youngest Dwarf chortled, his fuzzy auburn beard bouncing with the force of his laughter, "'Tis a pity there are no dungeons around, for surely you would have been as happy there as your great orc of a father!"

Legolas's eyes blazed and anyone who knew him well would have told the Dwarves that they had just crossed the line into treacherous waters, as Legolas's mood moved from extreme ire to near lethal ferocity. And in his mind came the thought that would have had the twins in a most gleeful mood, 'That is it! The dwarf must die!'

Icy eyes promising death, Legolas very deliberately wrung out his dripping hair and then pulled himself out of the pond. Very menacing he looked, bright eyes practically glowing in anger. That was it. There would be no more trying to be the better Elf. The twins had their new ally. This meant war.

"I hope you know what you have done!" Legolas hissed menacingly, "Beware, Stunted Ones, you have no idea what you have just started. Enjoy your laughter while you can. You shall be screaming ere long." His looks and tone were sufficiently like Thranduil in a rage that it put an end to the Dwarves' laughter as they started to get the sinking feeling that maybe getting revenge on Thranduil's son had not been the smartest thing to do.

Glowering once more at the now quiet Naugrim, Legolas stalked off with all the dignity that one could possess whilst squelching.

Along the way to his rooms, he met Aragorn, who openly gaped at him, "Legolas? What happened to you?!" he exclaimed. "And your clothes!"

"I had a minor disagreement with the launderer." Legolas said, "Apparently he is helpless to remove the stench of Dwarven treachery!"

The ranger eyed his livid disposition with appropriate wariness, he knew full well what an enraged Legolas was capable of. "Perhaps you should relax mellon nín (my friend)?" he suggested.

"I really wish everybody would stop telling me to relax!" Legolas exclaimed, "I have already heard this lecture from Erestor, Aragorn, if I have to hear it from you as well, I will drop you from the balcony."

As the drenched Elven Prince strode off, encompassed in all the fury of a royal temper tantrum, Aragorn could not help but wonder what in Arda was going on in Elrond's house.

But if the Dwarves really were responsible for this mess, may Eru help them.

Against the twins _and _Greenleaf, they could stand no chance…

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Cornered by an indomitable trio of unrelenting foes, Aragorn's predicament was dire.

He had been backed up until he was out on the balcony and could no go further and now he had nothing to do but wait for _them_ to approach.

"I do not want to get involved," he said, backing up nervously but only meeting the stone railing.

"Too late. You are already involved muindor nín (my brother)!" Elladan exclaimed in fake joy, making Aragorn swallow nervously. One did not grow up in the House of Elrond with the gwenyn o Imladris (twins of Rivendell) for brothers without learning that there was little that one man could do against them when they had set their minds on something. Especially when they had one all too eager for revenge Prince of Mirkwood as a partner.

"Be a sport, Aragorn, it will be fun." Legolas urged, fingering his Mithril knives in a way that would have made a lesser man distinctly nervous. The blonde ellon (he-Elf) had been in the foulest temper that Aragorn had seen him in for decades these past few days and having a healthy respect for the Sinda's skill, he was duly wary of what his friend's ill humour could provoke.

"You think baiting orcs is fun," Aragorn answered, "In this mood, I have no doubt that you are actively looking for trouble."

"You mean it is not?" Legolas said, completely serious. "But the hunt is so much more fun. And much less bothersome to kill than overwrought Naugrim."

The twins' chimed in next, each identical figure closing in on the ranger from a different side, "Estel (hope), you are our brother-to-be. We figured you of all people deserved the honour of being the first to help us."

"The honour?" Aragorn repeated, "If you want to all but declare war on the Dwarves, do it yourself. I, however, bear them no particular ill will."

"But brother, they attacked poor Legolas, and insulted our valley. Will you not defend your friend's and Rivendell's honour?"

"Brother, when you are out for blood, honour seldom comes into things," Aragorn replied, "Now leave me be or I shall tell your adar (father), your sister and Buffy exactly what schemes you have hatched."

Elrohir's eyes gleamed with nearly hidden hilarity, "Oh Aragorn, I am afraid that we cannot let you do that just yet. Not when we have so many plans that need a ranger's help."

Elladan and Legolas agreed with the twin wholeheartedly, increasing Aragorn's trapped feeling. Few got the better of even one of these Elves, let alone three of them together.

"And Estel, if you do not agree willingly, then… other measures, will have to be taken to ensure your cooperation," Elladan said wickedly.

Aragorn's eyes widened, "Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas…," he said warningly, "I will not be threatened by you of all people!"

Elladan and Elrohir's identical smiles were disturbing similar to Legolas's very evil one, "But gwanur (brother), we are only giving you the choice to help us of your own free will, or to… suffer the consequences…"

"What do you mean by that?!" Aragorn exclaimed, wishing to Eru that he had thought to bring his sword or his knives.

"Little Estel," Elladan said, shaking his head in mock sadness, "I was afraid you would say that. But cool your ire, pen neth (young one), you will soon see that this is war and there is no neutrality. You are not ada to be immune, pen dithen!" (little one)

As the twins' eyes lit up with a shared maniacal light, Aragorn felt the urge to run. And get somewhere far, far away from the twins and whatever scheme they had cooked up for the poor oblivious Dwarves' displeasure.

Elladan stepped closer to him and gave him a big smile, "Mayhap this shall change your mind!" he said, and then hefted Aragorn by the waist, placing his feet on the thin stone rail of the balcony.

For a moment, Aragorn wavered, tottering on the edge, and then to his horror, he felt the inevitable happen, even as the snickering Elven trio watched on.

Aragorn's eyes widened as he felt his footing slip. His arms flapped wildly trying to regain his balance but he was too late in acting. And with an expression of the utmost horror etched onto his face, Aragorn pitched forward, falling over and off the balcony and landing with an almighty splash in the horse's trough.

Flopped most ungainly in the trough, Aragorn was aware of the bright laughter that floated up from around him, from those who had witnessed his graceless fall. And in particular, he could hear the silvery laughter of Arwen, whose demons of brothers were responsible for his current plight.

From above him, on top of the low balcony, he could hear the twin Lords and the Prince talking.

"You lose, I win, ha!" Elladan said.

Elrohir wrinkled his nose, "You most certainly did not. He landed in the wrong trough!"

"Oh be quiet muindor (brother)," Elladan replied, "He landed in _a_ trough, that is enough for me to win the bet!"

"It was the _wrong_ trough!" Elrohir protested, "There is no way I am handing over that knife to such a blatant cheater!"

"Children!" the bemused voice of Legolas cut in, "Should we not be out persuading Aragorn and tormenting Dwarves? And not to mention, did he really deserve that? You know how Arwen will be most displeased with you on account of her betrothed? Why him?"

"I know 'tis unfair, mellon nín, (my friend)," Elladan answered, "But it is just so much fun ruining his life. He is like family now. More so than before. After all he will soon be our law-brother, and then we shall have full licence to torment him 'til his last breath!"

"May Eru spare him the agony," Legolas muttered, "Perhaps we should go fetch him ere he talks to Elrond?"

"Excellent idea, pen neth (young one)," Elrohir said, ignoring Legolas's glare, "I think we had better split up."

"Yes, we can do more damage that way." Elladan agreed.

Legolas just shrugged as the twins departed, "Be warned Aragorn," he said, his voice drifting down to the ranger's ears, "They are coming for you…"

Aragorn just groaned, not even bothering to attempt to wring the water out of his clothes and hair, "Why must it always be my relatives that cause so much trouble?"

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"How are you going to get them to come along?" Elrond asked curiously, "I would have thought that they would have headed towards the Golden Wood by now. I cannot see my proud gwenyn (twins) submitting to such a punishment."

His only daughter smiled mysteriously, as confident in her abilities as only a beloved sister can be, "I am going to lie," she said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And if the punishment is most… _unusual_, then it is only fitting for the crime which they should have known better than to commit."

"You do not believe it is too drastic then pen vell (dear one)?" Elrond asked, "That is not befitting two lords of the valley?"

"Their previous behaviour was unbefitting of two lords of the valley," Arwen said wryly, "And in all fairness, they have tormented Erestor enough over the centuries to not be wary if he was presented with an opportunity for turning the tables."

"Aye," Elrond agreed, inwardly smirking at the memory, "Erestor and Glóin had some most interesting ideas. I fear this was the tamer one."

"But why did you agree to it, ada?" Arwen asked curiously.

"Because they need to be taught a lesson, one that they have not learned in nearly three thousand years of life. And as a guest of mine, I cannot deny Glóin his recompense, nor can I allow him to hew my sons as he wished. It took Erestor an hour to convince him to cleave to this course of action. Not to mention that the entire valley could do with some entertainment in these dark times, myself included."

Arwen laughed lightly, "I am sure my brothers were delighted with Erestor at the time. I dare say they would rather have faced the Dwarves' axes than that!"

"Aye," Elrond agreed, "But they have brought this upon themselves. And unless they wish for trouble with King Dáin, they will perform their duties with decorum and dignity, and if all goes well, then perhaps they shall be persuaded against playing such tricks in the future!"

"Why ada!" Arwen exclaimed slyly, eyeing her father in amusement, "If I did not know better I would say that you are enjoying this!"

Elrond let his long hidden smirk surface, "Of course I am, iel nín, (my daughter). For millennia they have tormented my valley and for once at least, I shall see them get a taste of their own twisted humour!"

As Arwen stared at him, the Elvenlord began to laugh.

Oh how he loved shocking his children.

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A/N: So? What do you think? Feedback please! Please READ and REVIEW!!!

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P.S - next chapter out this Sunday, October 17th!

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Next chapter: The council of Elrond… Aragorn and Arwen come to some realisations… and the war heats up….

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Elvish:

Imladris - Rivendell

Dagnir - slayer

Namárië - farewell

Meldiren - my friend

Thranduilion - son of Thranduil

Suilaid - greetings

Adar - father

Gwenyn - twins

ionnath nín - my sons

Ion - son

Ada - dad

Mae govannen - well met

Peredhel - Half-Elven

Istar - wizard

Mellon nín - my friend

muindor nín - my brother

Gwenyn o Imladris - twins of Rivendell

Ellon - He-Elf

Estel - hope

Gwanur - brother/kinsman (by blood)

Pen neth - young one

Pen dithen - little one

Muindor - brother

Pen vell - dear one

Iel nín - my daughter

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Aman - also called the Blessed Realm, Valinor or the Undying Lands. Home of the Elves in the West.

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Amon Amarth - Mount Doom

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Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

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Círdan - also called 'the Shipwright'. Lord of the Grey Havens. The only Elf with a beard.

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Durin's Bane - the Balrog of Moria. Killed Durin VI in 1980.

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Ephel Dúath - Mountains of Shadow. Also called the Fence of Shadow. The mountain range separating Gondor and Mordor.

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Ereinion - 'scion of Kings'. High King of the Noldor after Turgon's death. Also known by his épessë (surname) Gil-galad.

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Gil-galad - Last High King of the Noldor. King of Lindon. Died during the final battle of the Last Alliance.

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Gladden Fields - Sindarin: Loeg Ningloron

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Ithilien - territory of Gondor, east of Anduin. In the earliest time the possession of Isildur and ruled from Minas Ithil.

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Lúthien - Daughter of King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia. Born in the First Age. Married a mortal man and came back from the dead as a mortal after convincing Mandos with a song to release her and her love, Beren. Considered the most beautiful Elf-maid to walk Arda. Elrond's foremother.

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Mithlond - the Grey Havens. Ruled by Círdan.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Naugrim - 'stunted ones'. Elvish term for Dwarves.

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Narsil - the sword of Elendil that was broken when Elendil died in combat with Sauron. Isildur used its shards to cut the One Ring from Sauron's hand. The shards are passed down onto each successive heir of Isildur as a heirloom.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Orthanc - the great Númenórean tower in the Circle of Isengard. Home of Saruman.

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Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

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The guarded city - Minas Tirith. The city was once called 'Minis Anor' - 'Tower of the Sun' but it's name was changed when both Minas Ithil and Osgiliath fell.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
(¸.·'´(¸.·'´ '·.¸)' ·.¸)  
¸.·´  
( ·.¸  
·.¸ )  
¸.·)´  
(.·´  
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	23. Revelations Part 2

FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Here's the council of Elrond! Yay! And to clear up a bit of confusion, Boromir will NOT be falling For Buffy!

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Review responses:

Anna - well, I can't have it all be dark times! Yes, you're right about why Elrond's staring. Well, it's ok because it wasn't a cliffhanger. Evil cliff-hangers will be coming a plenty in the future, but I wanted to inject a bit of humour first.

BuffyandDracoLover - no, they wouldn't dare prank her. Yet. Yes, the Boromir confrontation should be interesting once he finds out who she is.

ChibiChibi - will the twins get what they deserve? Depends on who you're talking to!

goldenshadows - Love lives are Complicated. It's a fact of life. Especially for certain people. But I am not putting Boromir into that mess! And Gimli with Legolas! How loud can I scream NOOOOOO!!!!

Haley - no, Boromir is not gonna fall for Buffy! But there is gonna be some triangle-ness.

Imp17 - no, he's not gonna fall for her, don't worry!

Julie - Boromir not in love with Buffy.

Lunawolf - he won't. don't worry.

MiShA - that's something you'll have to discover for yourself!

Organized-chaos - I found it somewhere. Can't remember where though. But I wanted to know why hit him with a frozen salmon instead of say, a book, chair, lamp etc?

Phoenix83ad - thank you! They are the original terrors, aren't they? And no, he's not going to hit on her! But yes, it is very hard to know who to feel sorry for!

Restive Nature - thanks! 'malicious fun'. what an apt way to put it. But as for the weapons thing, the Dwarves really do sleep with their axes! So unless you were willing to strip search the Dwarves, you wouldn't get them off them. Not to mention the Dwarves couldn't get down off the roof and so not really a threat to them. They'd know when they were coming for them.

Samantha - it's coming up soon, don't worry!

Star - you don't. this chapter only took 2 days! And no, you didn't miss it. It's in this chapter. And sorry, but Boromir is NOT falling for Buffy!

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And major thanks to:

Cristina, Ms8309, Night-Owl123, pamie884, ShawThang, VioletHaze, Wild320, zayra,

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: REVELATIONS PART TWO

That eve, the entire valley was aware that something very strange was going on, and even by the most dispassionate Elves it was acknowledged that the buzz in the valley signalled some impending excitement.

But not all were looking forward to the merriment, mostly the two unfortunate Elves stuck as the 'entertainers'.

His back to the mirror, Elladan adjusted the restrictive clothing before shouting through the door, "I am ready!"

"Well, 'tis about time." Elrohir huffed, wincing at the sight of his brother. 

Both brothers had quickly concluded that this was cruel and most unusual punishment, and as their father had been repressing laughter when he forwarded Glóin's demand for their punishment, Elladan and Elrohir just knew that he was enjoying this whole saga immensely.

Which of course made the twins all the more eager to wreak terrible Elvish vengeance on those grubby little Dwarves in recompense for this humiliation!

"Well, I still think that we should not have underestimated Arwen," Elladan said, "Should you not have dissuaded her from being ada's accomplice?"

"Do not put me in the middle." Elrohir said, "This is as much your fault as mine."

"I am not putting you anywhere, you were born in the middle." Elladan replied, "But I hope that all those who even dare to _think_ of laughing at us, will be subjected to a persistent round of torments to pay them back for their disloyalty."

"You plan to anger the whole valley brother?" Elrohir said wryly, "Because I would wager that the only ones not laughing are us."

"Let us just get this over with, and if we can manage it, I will spill ale on each and every single person who has the temerity to comment."

"Planning on emptying the cellar too, brother?" Elrohir called after him, causing him to growl in annoyance.

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The barracks of Rivendell were exceptionally crowded that night; with lots of night time revellers all eager to see the much publicised punishment doled out by Lord Elrond.

The event which was to occur this night was not one likely to be repeated in the entire history of Arda.

Buffy and Arwen had arrived together, not wanting to miss the prime sight that was bound to be Arwen's hapless brothers.

"Ada, has the most delightful errand for them," Arwen was saying, "'Tis sometimes too easy to forget that he can be worse than Elladan and Elrohir together when he has the mind to be!"

"Oh good so this is all your fault then?" Buffy said, "'Cos I take it that the twins aren't exactly coming here of their own free will."

"Of course not!" Arwen exclaimed gleefully, "But a little blackmail backed up with ada's threats and authority usually works wonders."

"Perfect." Buffy deadpanned, "While the twins are in the doghouse, you chose to go insane. By the way, did you hear about Aragorn's little tumble off the balcony?"

Arwen giggled, "Into the horses' water trough? Of course mellon nín (my friend). Oh dear, to speak of the Balrog, here come Legolas and Aragorn."

Buffy immediately started checking for the nearest exits and exaggeratedly scanned the roof.

"What are you doing?!" Aragorn asked as he came closer, observing her strange actions.

"Nothing good ever happens when you two are together so I am waiting for a mountain to plop down and fall in around us, or perhaps a swarm of orcs will ambush us or mayhap you shall just kill each other yourselves!" Buffy teased.

"Har de har har," Aragorn said sarcastically, remembering a well used phrase of Buffy's.

"She is such a delight." Legolas said wryly as well, eyeing Buffy in annoyance.

Aragorn's eyes lit up as he spotted the twins sneaking in, and a loud cheer rose from the crammed barracks, where nearly every Elf in the valley was now residing, waiting to see the twins' new looks.

Arwen and Buffy collapsed into laughter at the sight of them, and Legolas and Aragorn were visibly smirking, as were Glorfindel and Erestor, who was supervising a painter commissioned to capture the rare occasion, while the rest of the gathered people were swallowed in mirth at the hilarious sight.

Standing near the door, arms crossed and looking fit to kill, were Elladan and Elrohir, and they looked decidedly different than normal.

For you see, Glóin's punishment, (aided by Erestor's helpful hints), had been simple. Elladan and Elrohir would feel the humiliation they had inflicted upon the Dwarves, by borrowing two dresses and donning them for one night to serve the ale in the barracks.

When Elrond had finished laughing, he had enthusiastically agreed, certain in the belief that the twins would not dare wreak the vengeance for this one on him.

And so the humiliation of the gwenyn (twins) was total.

But as they got onto the business of serving the ale, the dresses borrowed from Arwen swaying, none knew what crafty little schemes were being hatched by those busy, busy minds…

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"Of course I think betting on it is wrong!" Elrond exclaimed, "Betting on which side shall annihilate the other first is not the proper thing to do!"

"Glad to see you have a healthy handle on the situation, Elrond," Buffy said, "But if you seriously think the twins are going to let the Dwarves' revenge go unavenged, you're insane."

"I never said that," Elrond defended himself, "But I do hope to keep out of this entire fiasco!"

"Okay, why do I get the feeling that my day's about to get worse?" Buffy said, "You sound like Sauron's about to sweep down on us or something."

"These are my sons of which I speak," Elrond pointed out pragmatically, "And Thranduil's heir. And war is coming. Indeed, it is upon us already is it not?" he said, darkening Buffy's mood.

"Spoilsport," Buffy muttered.

"Nay!" Elrond called, "I just want my valley left standing ere the end!" A loud bang cut off whatever else he was going to say as Gandalf and Arwen walked in. "Gandalf!" Elrond exclaimed, "_Really_! Do you not have ought better to do than try and destroy my halls?" he accused.

"That bang was Arwen's doing I assure you," the wizard said, somewhat offended. Elrond looked at his daughter expectantly.

"I am just trying to get some attention which lately seems to require a small explosion." she said, pouting for good measure.

Elrond's face fell, "Oh pen vell (dear one), you know I do not neglect you intentionally but if your brothers' antics are not watched, then more the fool me. What can I do to make amends?"

Arwen's smile increased in wattage, moving it from luminous to blinding, and making alarm bells ring in Elrond's head. And then a migraine moved in as she explained what she wanted from him.

This tendency towards trouble had to come from Galadriel's side of the family, Elrond swore, resignedly listening to his daughter's plans.

Across the room, after overhearing part of the conversation, Erestor's eyes widened and he looked at Glorfindel, "Were it not for the sorrow of my Lord and Lady, I would be most happy at not having to oversee those three rascals."

Beside him, the Balrog-slayer nodded his head in agreement, "You have to admit that their… lively dispositions would have kept us well entertained."

"Only if one wanted to be remit to Mandos' Halls by all four children of Elrond." Erestor said wryly, including Estel in his statement.

"You make a very good point my friend. Visiting those halls for a second time, only to see I died at the hands of their mischief instead of a Balrog… 'twould be most unbecoming."

Erestor and Glorfindel shared a knowing look as they thought on their Lord's plight, "Think you the twins will win?" Erestor asked.

Glorfindel scoffed, "Of course, mellon nín (my friend), they have had three thousand years of practice and they have Legolas Thranduilion to help them. That pen neth (young one) inherited his father's temper when roused."

Erestor acknowledged the Elda's point, "I only hope the Naugrim know what they have let themselves in for. Master Glóin's punishment has secured them a place on the twins' agenda for revenge and I would hate to have to be the one to explain to King Dáin exactly why the Dwarves he sent here met with foul play."

As the two Elves listened in on Arwen's expert cajoling of Elrond, they shared a despairing look.

One thing was certain; and that was that the valley would not regain its peace until long after their visitors were gone.

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_"A man is too apt to forget that in this world he cannot have everything. A choice is all that is left him."_

_-- H. Mathews_

Elrond found his foster son in his mother's garden, gazing on the statue of Gilraen, who had passed away many years ago in the reckoning of Men. He knew Aragorn still missed her.

But he had errands other than soothing his foster son's bruised heart.

He could not bear this torture any longer.

Things had to be brought into the open.

"Aragorn, I would speak to you," he said softly.

The ranger turned around, and the Elvenlord saw the gathering dread in those grey eyes, and knew that the man had deduced much of what he had come here to say.

He did not waste time on pleasantries when both of them knew his real purpose in coming to him.

"You must let her go, Aragorn. She belongs with her people!" Elrond said vehemently.

"I think that is her choice, not yours." the ranger said quietly.

"You would sunder her from her naneth (mother), and extinguish her immortal flame? You would kill her!" Elrond cried.

"I would do nothing but love her," Aragorn said in a pained tone, his anguish clearly written on his face.

The Elvenlord was no less sincere, and his own ageless face was ravaged by grief at the imminent loss of his beloved only daughter, of all his children the most alike to Celebrían, his beautiful and much loved wife who awaited him in the West.

Awaited him and their children.

"Aragorn, our time here is ending. Arwen's time is ending. Let her go. Let her take the ship into the west. Let her bear away her love for you to the Undying Lands. There it will be evergreen." Elrond pleaded with the one man that stood between his daughter and an immortal life.  
  
Aragorn's eyes closed in envisioned pain, "But never more than a memory." he said softly, "Never more than an image of a life that could have been…"  
  
Elrond held his ground, "I will not leave my daughter here to die." he said, letting all his resentment of Aragorn come to the fore. Aragorn could not be only a beloved foster child anymore, now he was the man that threatened to be Arwen's unwitting murderer.

But also, unknown to Aragorn, the Elvenlord had ulterior motives. He had watched Buffy during her stay here, and had agreed with his sons, the slayer loved Aragorn. He would not condemn Aragorn to a life of heartbreak, but neither could he sacrifice the life of his only daughter.  
  
"She stays because she still has hope." Aragorn said, causing Elrond to scoff.  
  
"She stays for YOU!" Elrond cried in acute anguish, "She belongs with her people! Leave her go Aragorn! Let her live!"

Aragorn was silent for a long while ere he made any reply, "You do not understand, Elrond, she is the only light in the darkness. If I lose her, I could not bear to live. But the choice is hers in the end, not mine. If you wish her to sail to the Undying Lands, then go to her. Do not accuse me of what I cannot help. Do you think that I would condemn her to a mortal life if I could help it? But please, leave me be. You have wounded my heart with your words, and I understand that until there is a resolution, nothing can heal this rift between us. It is too wide, and the cause too dear to us."

And with that, the man who would be King walked away, leaving a thoughtful Elf in his wake.

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To hide himself from Elrond and his disturbing words, Aragorn camped out in the lesser used library, where the shards of Narsil and Aeglos, the great spear of Gil-galad were displayed in shrines to their fallen masters.

He had not been long trying to feign interest in a book when the eldest son of Denethor entered.

Aragorn had to admit that he was most curious about the man, as this would be the one whose power he would usurp if he were to claim the title of king.

That the man was a tad too arrogant for his own good was his first impression, and the second was that he was unlearned in the lore of Gondor, and of other realms.

Curiosity drove him, he knew, when the man, Boromir as he was called, approached the shards of Narsil with something approaching awe. He felt some unknown anger at his family's heirlooms, his by right, being mauled by someone who did not even have a proper appreciation for them. He let the anger take him, it was better than this maudlin mood that had settled over him after Elrond's talk.

"The shards of Narsil." Boromir said in awe, unaware of his audience, "The blade that cut the Ring from Sauron's hand." Running his finger over the blade, he abruptly pulled back as it sliced through his finger, "It's still sharp." he whispered but then trailed off as he looked around and saw Aragorn watching him.

Unnerved by that intense grey eyed stare, the man of the south looked away and said dismissively, "But no more than a broken heirloom."

Hastily he put back the sword, uncaring that the hilt fell to the ground, while Aragorn's annoyed gaze bored into his back as he left.

Sighing, Aragorn put down his book, and went over to the shrine, picking up the hilt and reverently placing it back in its proper position.

He stood there for a while, looking at the portrait of Isildur cutting the ring from Sauron's finger, wondering why the line of Isildur always seemed to cause nought but pain and trouble.

A soft familiar and gentle voice came from behind him, "Aragorn? Why do you hurt yourself so?"

Aragorn closed his eyes in remembered and future pain, 'no, but yours shall be the fate of Lúthien, and 'tis my selfishness, Isildur's lack of will, that will be the cause of your death.' he thought. "The same blood flows in my veins. The same weakness." he said, only voicing some of his dilemma.

Your time will come. You will face the same evil and you will defeat it." Arwen reassured him, coming closer, "A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor, Aragorn. Ú or le a ú or nin. (The Shadow does not hold sway yet. Not over you, not over me.)" 

The Lady of Rivendell placed a gentle hand upon his shoulder, trying to impart comfort to the burdened ranger, "Why do you fear the past? You are Isildur's heir, not Isildur himself. You are not bound to his fate."

When Aragorn remained silent, she spoke again, "Your time will come. You will face the same evil and you will defeat it."

Aragorn looked at the Evenstar's lovely, compassionate face and could not look her in the eye. How could he explain the horrors of the world to one who had been protected from them all her life? How could he explain mortality to one who had never known it? How could he confide his troubles when he knew that he was not worthy of her? Of anyone really.

How could he tell her that her words brought no comfort to him anymore? And that her soft touches did not alleviate his stress anymore?

How could he tell her that his desire for her was waning, collapsing, under the burdens placed upon him by all that he knew and those he did not know?

"My lady, I must go," he said roughly, trying to ignore the painful clenching of his heart as he thought of his future fate.

She let him go, watching him with those knowing eyes, so like to her father and grandmother, but ere he reached the door, she spoke.

"Aragorn," she called and he stopped but didn't turn back to look at her, "If you always judge yourself by your predecessors, then you are doomed to fail before you even begin."

Her words chased him long after he had left her presence.

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As she watched Aragorn once more flee from his destiny, and from her, Arwen welcomed the sharp pain that lanced through her heart at the thought that he could no longer find any comfort in her presence.

Something was wrong, terribly wrong with them.

There was something missing, and for the life of her, Arwen could not recall how and when exactly that connection between them had died. If they had ever had one?

She had not understood before, had not seen, had not wanted to see.

But her eyes were wide open now.

And she could see with biting clarity what she had missed before.

She could not fault them, could not fault herself; these things were meant to be.

And it was time to bring love out of the shadows, and to no longer hide behind the cover of duty, of friendship, of honour.

It was time for her to set them free….

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_"You're wrong if you think the best way to solve a problem is to talk it to death."_

_- unknown_

_The Council Chamber, the Last Homely House, Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 27._

The congregation to decide the fate of Middle Earth had gathered in the Council Chamber.

Its attendees were varied and most of noble backgrounds, producing a most eclectic mix for this discussion. There were the two hobbits, Frodo and Bilbo; Aragorn; the twins and their father; Glorfindel; Erestor; a smattering of other counsellors; the Dwarven party; Boromir of Gondor; Gandalf the Grey; an Elf called Galdor from the Grey Havens; Legolas Greenleaf; Arwen Evenstar and Buffy herself.

Buffy seated herself between Arwen and Erestor and soon Elrond called the council into session. "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction.

None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound this fate, this one doom." he said ominously, "But first, here my friends, is the Hobbit, Frodo, son of Drogo. Few have ever come hither through greater peril or on an errand more urgent." he said, introducing Frodo.

Elrond swiftly ran through the rest of the introductions, glossing over both Buffy and Aragorn, whose backgrounds he did not want known to the council just yet.

The Dwarves were the first to speak, and Glóin put all animosity against the Elves, especially Legolas, aside to lay out the troubles of the Dwarves with the Enemy.

"It is now many years ago," said Glóin, "That a shadow of disquiet fell on our people. Whence it came we did not at first perceive. Words began to be whispered in secret; it was said that we were hemmed in a narrow place, and that greater wealth and splendour would be found in a wider world. Some spoke of Moria; the might works of our fathers that are called in our own tongue Khazad-dûm; and they declared that now at last we had the powers and numbers to return."

Buffy shuddered at the name of that foul place. Her nightmares were often haunted by memories of her ordeal in those cursed mines… She never even wanted to hear about that place again….

A quick glance at Aragorn told her that he too was reliving some very bad memories of that place.

Sighing in resignation that she would be forced to hear more than she ever wanted to, she tuned back into Glóin's words.

Glóin sighed wistfully, as if thinking on the wonder that it had previously been, "Moria! Moria! Wonder of the Northern world! Too deep we delved there, and woke the nameless fear. Long have its vast mansions lain empty since the children of Durin fled. But now we spoke of it again with longing, an yet with dread; for no dwarf has dared to pass the doors of Khazad-dûm for many lives of kings, save Thrór only, and he perished. At last, however, Balin listened to the whispers, and resolved to go; and though Dáin did not give leave willingly, he took with him Ori and "in and many of our folk, and they went away south."

Buffy barely stifled a gasp. Some fool had gone into that hellhole willingly? Even knowing there had been a Balrog there? She closed her eyes in sorrow, already knowing what had to have been their fate.

No group of Dwarves could have retaken those mines.

An army ten thousand strong would scarcely have been enough to do so. And even they couldn't access the lower levels of that death trap.

"That was nigh on thirty years ago. For a while we had news and it seemed good; messages reported that Moria had been entered and a great work began there. Then there was silence, and no word has ever come from Moria since."

Buffy felt like interrupting but kept silent, not wanting to draw attention to herself, and she smiled gratefully at Arwen when her intuitive friend took her hand in her own, silently offering her comfort against the dark thoughts and memories.

Glóin continued on relentlessly but his tone spoke of a heavy heart and a burdened mind. "Then about a year ago a messenger came to Dáin, but not from Moria - from Mordor; a horseman in the night, who called Dáin to his gate. The Lord Sauron the Great, so he said, wished for our friendship. Rings he would give for it, such as he gave of old. And he asked urgently concerning hobbits, of what kind they were, and where they dwelt. _'For Sauron knows_,' said he, _'that one of these was known to you on a time."_

Frodo gasped at this, but Gandalf silenced him with a look, not wanting the council's attention drawn to Frodo just yet.

"At this we were greatly troubled, and we gave no answer. And then the fell voice was lowered, and he would have sweetened it if he could. _'As a small token of your friendship Sauron asks this,' he said, 'that you should find this thief,' such was his word, 'and get from him, willing or no, a little ring, the least of rings, that once he stole. It is bit a trifle that Sauron fancies, and an earnest of your good will. Find it, and three rings that the Dwarf-sires possessed of old shall be returned to you, and the realm of Moria shall be yours for ever. Find only news of the thief, whether he still lives and where, and you shall have great reward and lasting friendship from the Lord. Refuse, and things will not seem so well. Do you refuse?"_ the Dwarf-lord's voice was haunted, and even Legolas and the twins felt some pity for the beleaguered kingdom of Dwarves,

"At that his breath came like the hiss of snakes, and all who stood by shuddered, but Dáin said, '_I say neither yea or nay. I must consider this message and what it means under its fair cloak.''Consider well, but not too long_,' said he.

_'The time of my thoughts is my own to spend_,' answered Dáin._'For the present_,' said he, and rode into the darkness.

"Heavy have the hearts of our chieftains been since that night." Glóin said, looking around the council as if to judge their opinions on the matter. "We needed not the fell voice of the messenger to warn us that his words held both menace and deceit; for we knew already that the power has re-entered Mordor has not changed, and ever it betrayed us of old. Twice the messenger has returned, and gone unanswered. The third and last time, so he says, is soon to come, before the ending of the year."

He paused here, and then continued but more urgently this time, his face turned towards his old friend, Bilbo Baggins.

"And so I have been sent at last by Dáin to warn Bilbo that he is sought by the Enemy, and to learn, if may be, why he desires this ring, this least of rings. Also we crave the advice of Elrond. For the Shadow grows and draws nearer. We discover that messengers have come also to King Brand of Dale, and that he is afraid. We fear that he may yield. Already war is gathering on his eastern borders. If we make no answer, the Enemy may move Men of his rule to assail King Brand, and Dáin also."

At this news of Dale, Legolas looked alarmed and both Arwen and Buffy shot him looks of sympathy, knowing how close the human kingdom was to Mirkwood. If Dale fell to the shadow… Mirkwood's days would be numbered…

"You have done well to come," said Elrond, "You will hear today all that you need in order to understand the purposes of the Enemy. There is naught that you can do, other than to resist, with hope or without it. But you do not stand alone. It is time I tell you of how the Ring came to be, and how the Last Alliance ended with the defeat of Sauron, but not his total destruction."

In a quiet voice, laden with memory, Elrond spoke of Eregion, and its crafts, and of Annatar, Sauron's fair guise, telling the tale from the forging of the One Ring to the last battle of the Last Alliance of Elves and Men.

"I beheld the last combat on the slopes of Orodruin, where Gil-galad died, and Elendil fell, and Narsil broke beneath him, but Sauron himself was overthrown, and Isildur cut the Ring from his hand with the hilt-shard of his father's sword and took it for his own." Elrond said, not entirely able to hide his bitterness at the reason why Sauron yet lived to trouble them.

Boromir broke in then, exclaiming exuberantly, "So that is what became of the Ring!" he cried, "If ever such a tale was told in the South, it has long been forgotten. I have heard of the Great Ring of him that we do not name; but we believed that it had perished from the world in the ruin of the first realm. Isildur took it! That is tidings indeed!"

Arwen glanced over to Buffy, _'This is the one who will be steward to Aragorn_?' she said in mind-speak, _'He seems too rash to be trusted near the One._' she warned.

Buffy replied in the same vein, knowing Arwen would hear her, 'It's _Denethor's influence. He was always on a major ego trip and this guy doesn't strike me as the bookish type. But I agree, he shows way too much interest in the Ring._'

"Aye, Isildur took it, and carried it with him from the foot of Orodruin, where his father was slain. _'This I will have as weregild for my father, and my brother'_ he said, and none could persuade him to destroy, through words or force," Elrond said, "and therefore whether we would or no, he took it to treasure it. And so we come to why we are now gathered here. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."

Frodo came forward and reluctantly placed the ring onto the table, letting all present see its deceptively plain appearance.

"So it is true!" Boromir whispered in a half gasp.

"The doom of all," one of the Dwarves muttered, looking askance at the deceiving gold band.

"Behold Isildur's Bane!" Elrond cried, "Here lies the One Ring of Sauron, that he searches for ever, and that which we must never regain if Middle Earth is not to be covered in a second darkness. But firstly, there is more of this tale yet to be told, so leave it be for a while!"

Elrond then spoke of the history of Gondor next, purposely ignoring the expectant glances Boromir sent his way, the man thinking that Lord Elrond should have asked him about his home country, and at the first pause of the Elvenlord, he broke in once more, seeming not to notice the deadly glare that Erestor, the chief counsellor, was sending his way for his continued breaches of manners and protocol.

"Give me leave, Master Elrond," Boromir said somewhat haughtily, "first to say more of Gondor, for verily from the land of Gondor I am come. And it would be well for all to know what passes there. For few, I deem, know of our deeds, and therefore guess little of their peril, if we should fail at last."

Elrond looked a little incredulous at the man's impertinence but duly gave him leave to speak, which he did copiously.

"Believe not that in the land of Gondor the blood of Númenor is spent, nor all its pride and dignity forgotten." Boromir said, rising to his feet and addressing the entire council, as if he felt the need to justify Gondor's reasons for existence and its importance. But as he talked, he remained unaware of several unwavering glances fixed on him as they studied this somewhat brash lord of the Guarded City.

"By our valour the wild folk of the East are still restrained, and the terror of Morgul kept at bay; and thus alone are peace ad freedom maintained in the lands behind us, bulwark of the West. But if the passages of the River should be won, what then?" Boromir said passionately.

"Yet that hour, maybe, is not now far away. The Nameless Enemy had arisen again. Smoke rises once more from Orodruin that we call Mount Doom. The power of the Black Land grows and we are hard beset. When the Enemy returned our folk were driven from Ithilien, our fair domain east of the River, though we kept a foothold there and strength of arms. But this very year, in the days of June, sudden war came upon us out of Mordor and we were swept away. We were outnumbered, for Mordor has allied itself with the Easterlings and the cruel Haradrim; but it was not by numbers that we were defeated. A power was there that we have not felt before." he explained, not knowing that this information had for the most part long been known, much of it provided by the rangers, and the background history from Aragorn, Buffy, Elladan and Elrohir.

By now Boromir was waving his hands about as he continued his impassioned plea, "Some said it could be seen, like a great black horseman, a dark shadow under the moon. Wherever he came a madness filled our foes, but fear fell on the boldest, so that horse and man gave way and fled. Only a remnant of our eastern force came back, destroying the last bridge that still stood amid the ruins of Osgiliath." he paused for a moment.

"I was in the company that held the bridge, until it was cast down behind us. Four only were saved by swimming; my brother and myself and two others. But still we fight o, holding all the west shores of the Anduin; and those who shelter behind us give us praise, if ever they hear our name; much praise but little help. Only from Rohan now will any men ride to us when we call…" he said somewhat despondently.

"I only ask for counsel and the unravelling of hard words. For on the eve of the sudden assault a dream came to my brother in a troubled sleep; and afterwards a like dream came oft to him again and once to me. In that dream I thought the eastern sky grew dark and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered, and out of it I heard a voice, remote but clear, crying; _Seek for the Sword that was broken,_

_In Imladris it dwells,_

_There shall be counsels taken,_

_Stronger than Morgul-spells,_

_There shall be shown a token,_

_That Doom is near at hand,_

_For Isildur's bane shall waken,_

_And the Halfling forth shall stand."_ he said, reciting the riddle that had baffled him and his brother, Faramir.

There were several gasps from the more well-informed amongst them, and now the southern lord was treated to a piercing glance of fierce intensity by Elrond, who had not yet heard of this riddle but understood its significance perfectly.

"I understand now the reference to Isildur's Bane," Boromir said, "And the halfling. But the Sword that was broken eludes me."

"And here in the house of Elrond more shall be made clear to you," said Aragorn, standing up and drawing attention to himself for the first time since the council had started.

He cast his sword upon the table that stood before Elrond, and the blade was in two pieces. "Here is the Sword that was Broken!" he said.

"And who are you, and what have you to do with Minas Tirith?" asked Boromir, looking in wonder at the lean face of the ranger and his weather-stained cloak.

"A ranger of the north," Aragorn replied, "One who has seen the servants of the Enemy. And I am well versed in the lore of the Sword that was Broken, and I am its current keeper."

"Be that as it may, why should the Sword matter when this gift is delivered into our hands?" Boromir said, standing up himself, "For it is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor kept the forces of Mordor at bay by the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!"

You cannot wield it. None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." Aragorn said, alarmed at Boromir's lack of caution towards the ring. And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" Boromir scoffed, his tone clearly conveying that he thought the ranger beneath him. 

Buffy kept her silence, not wanting to engage in testosterone warfare and Arwen remained silent as well, those sharp eyes studying the man intently.

But Legolas could not let his friend's honour be slurred and so came to his defence, "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." he said fervently.

Aragorn glared at him, whilst Elrond had a long-suffering expression on his face and Boromir looked at Aragorn incredulously, not believing the Elven Prince's words.

"He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn," said Elrond confirming Legolas's statement somewhat reluctantly, as if he knew he was adding fuel to an already raging bonfire, "And he is descended through many fathers from Isildur Elendil's son of Minas Ithil. He is the Chief of the Dúnedain in the North, and few now are left of that folk."

"Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?" Boromir repeated incredulously, staring at Aragorn as if he were a ghost.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor." Legolas added for good measure.

At that reminder, Boromir's wonder soon turned to resentment, distrust and hatred, and he glowered at Aragorn darkly.

The ranger stared right back.

The tension was palpable as the two would be rulers of Minas Tirith grappled with each other in a contest of will.

At least until one voice broke the silence.

"Well," Buffy said, her voice unwittingly being carried around the room much louder than she had expected. "It looks like the cat's out of the bag…."

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_A**/N:**_Well? What do you think? Feedback please! Please READ and REVIEW!!!

_Next chapter: _the council continues… Aragorn lands himself in trouble again…. Arwen speaks her mind….

_Elvish:_

Mellon nín - my friend

Gwenyn - twins

Pen vell - dear one

Pen neth - young one

Estel - hope

Naugrim - Stunted Ones (Dwarves)

Thranduilion - son of Thranduil

Naneth - mother

Annatar - lord of gifts

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_Aeglos_ - 'Snowthorn'. the spear of Gil-galad.

_Aman_ - also called the Blessed Realm, Valinor or the Undying Lands. Home of the Elves in the West.

_Amon Amarth_ - Mount Doom

_Celebrían_ - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

_Círdan_ - also called 'the Shipwright'. Lord of the Grey Havens. The only Elf with a beard.

_Dol Guldur_ - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

_Durin's Bane_ - the Balrog of Moria. Killed Durin VI in 1980.

_Ephel Dúath_ - Mountains of Shadow. Also called the Fence of Shadow. The mountain range separating Gondor and Mordor.

_Ereinion _- 'scion of Kings'. High King of the Noldor after Turgon's death. Also known by his épessë (surname) Gil-galad.

_Gil-galad_ - Last High King of the Noldor. King of Lindon. Died during the final battle of the Last Alliance.

_Gladden Fields_ - Sindarin: Loeg Ningloron

_Istari_ - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

_Ithilien_ - territory of Gondor, east of Anduin. In the earliest time the possession of Isildur and ruled from Minas Ithil.

_Lúthien_ - Daughter of King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia. Born in the First Age. Married a mortal man and came back from the dead as a mortal after convincing Mandos with a song to release her and her love, Beren. Considered the most beautiful Elf-maid to walk Arda. Elrond's foremother.

_Mithlond_ - the Grey Havens. Ruled by Círdan.

_Mithril_ - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980.

_Morannon_ - The Black Gate of Mordor.

_Moria_ - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

_Naugrim_ - 'stunted ones'. Elvish term for Dwarves.

_Narsil_ - the sword of Elendil that was broken when Elendil died in combat with Sauron. Isildur used its shards to cut the One Ring from Sauron's hand. The shards are passed down onto each successive heir of Isildur as a heirloom.

_Númenor_ - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Orthanc - the great Númenórean tower in the Circle of Isengard. Home of Saruman.

_Osgiliath_ - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

The guarded city - Minas Tirith. The city was once called 'Minis Anor' - 'Tower of the Sun' but it's name was changed when both Minas Ithil and Osgiliath fell.

_Vilya_ - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

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«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	24. Daughter of the Night

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: I won! I won! Yay! 'First Knight' came in joint first place in the MPA awards in the crossover section, 371 votes to 370!

I cannot thank all you wonderful readers and reviewers out there for voting for me! I am totally ecstatic and very hyper at the moment! I can only send out a huge THANK YOU to all who voted for my fic, encouraged me during my trials in writing this, and who have been patiently following my story! THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!

Now, to reward your patience and absolutely delightful reviews, the time has come that you have all been waiting for! Not only is this the longest chapter of the story so far but it is time for Aragorn's Revelation, also known as 'his kick up the butt'. Enjoy my darling readers, and get ready for the _real _roller coaster ride to begin!

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Review responses:

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - Boromir is a character that grows on you. When he comes off the defensive he'll be less of an ass. And as for Buffy having a power, I know, I know. But that's the premise for the sequel so….

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Anna - The Arwen and Aragorn talk is in this chapter. And Denethor definitely went with the tarnishing. And get with the giddiness, the wake up call is here!

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Boo - two jobs? Aren't you busy? And yes, it's a fusion of both verses.

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ChibiChibi - war is definitely a good word to use! And yes, break up time is here but comforting? You'll have to wait…

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Draco's Slytherin Vampiress - no, Boromir doesn't find out all that she is, only some. Which love triangle are you referring to? 'Cos the current one consists of Buffy who likes Aragorn but he likes Arwen who likes Aragorn but is liked by Legolas who Aragorn thought was dating Buffy, and whom Buffy knows that he likes Arwen just as he knows she likes Aragorn, but both Arwen and Aragorn are oblivious. God, that sounds complicated.

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FallenStar2 - thanks! Yes, when a woman plans, things definitely get done! I know it's hard to imagine Buffy as old as she is, but I tend to envision her as season 7 Buffy with a helluva lot more wisdom and experience.

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Felicia Neko - thank you! And Boromir didn't recognise Narsil as the Sword that Was Broken because he didn't believe there was any truth in the tales of old about the ancient kings of the north.

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goldenshadows - I'm glad that you're not a pseudo-cavewoman. Will she join? Answer in this part! But the revealing thing? Not yet.

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Haley - yes, Boromir gets a dressing down and a sizeable one too!

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JeanB - Thanks! Yes, I did use a lot of lines from the book. I couldn't improve on Tolkien and I need to set the background for some… conflicts later. Not to mention Boromir does a spectacular job of digging his own hole in the books! And I don't want Buffy to steal parts either but it is fun to see her aggravate certain characters! Buffy? A mistake she'll regret? Oooh boy, just one? (author laughs loudly in background) I think the bad guys' motto will be 'bring on the trouble…' Flawless is not a word attributed to Buffy; she makes bad decisions, she gets cranky, her aim can be a little crooked and she has bad luck with dead things. And it's only gonna get worse… a LOT worse…

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Lady Alathon - why would Buffy cut her hair? (sincerely puzzled here)

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Lady of the Wood - thanks for catching that! Apparently my upload process did not go smoothly! This site just _loves _to do that to me!

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LilGreenImp - yes, it was a very good week for updates! Yes, Buffy is hiding a lot. The question is when is her cat going to escape the bag? As for Denethor, the last time he and Buffy met was fifty odd years ago, he had time to learn some things, including dignity. But I think he would have had to say something about Eliza when people talked about the only woman lieutenant in Gondor. He would have had to tell him _something_. Let's just say it ain't pretty or fair but hey, that's Denethor. The Denethor I wrote about back then was much younger. And remember it was nine good guys against nine bad guys, it didn't say anything about somebody who while good, does have a bit of evil heritage in them. Sorry, no scoobies. They'd be all dead or really old by now. Yeah, S7 wasn't the greatest in terms of character likeability. And Arwen's got her head screwed on right now, so meddling is in the works. And Buffy LIKES the Elf, remember? He's her friend? And there will be tension a-plenty anyway!

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Lunawolf - It's DEFINITELY going to be complex enough! And the break up is HERE, NOW. So I didn't leave you hanging that long!

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Mari - Aragorn's wake up call is NOW. And you've hit the mark head on with your assessment of Aragorn's difficulties. Except that I have more to add on to that. And yes, the Fellowship is going to be an… _interesting_ gathering of peoples. Cool idea on the flashbacks.

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MiShA - thanks! And I would hope so!

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Ms8309 - the council only finishes in this chapter so Buffy gets her say in this one! And yes, he does find out.

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organized-chaos - chair, definitely. Much easier to find than a 40 pound salmon.

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Phoenix83ad - Jerry Springer hmmm? Never thought of that actually. Yes, Elrond sired the twins remember. They had to get it from _somewhere_! And Arwen is there in advisor capacity not to volunteer! Arwen/Aragorn waterworks are in this part! The twins don't learn from fear. They like to inspire it more than feel it. As for Aragorn and Legolas, well… they'll have trouble of their own to worry about.

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restive nature - thank you! Thanks for your comments about the Dwarves. That feud ain't pretty. And you always get me blushing! It's a gift!

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SarahE.Horton - now…

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ShawThang - I know it was a lot of retelling, but I needed to establish background for certain.. Events later. (basically evil little plot bunnies in the author's demented mind)

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Sparky24 - sorry, for the 'filler' as you put it but I felt the story needed something to lighten the doom and gloom that will happen during the War of the Ring. And 22 was a transition to 23. Originally they were one chapter but it just got so big I had to split it into parts.

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Star - yes, Arwen makes her decision in this chapter and tells someone. And Aragorn's sense of distance shows up in this part too.

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Wbulldogs - thank you! That's so sweet! And I don't like rushing a story, it only ruins it if you do.

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And major thanks to:

Cristina, Gaul1, Imp17, Jania, LizaGirl, Night-Owl123, pamie884, tracey, zayra

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: DAUGHTER OF THE NIGHT

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"The secret waits for the insight of eyes unclouded by longing."

- Lao Tzu

"_That_ is a king!" Boromir exclaimed in pure incredulity, staring at the heir of Isildur like he had suddenly grown two heads.

Aragorn had to give Legolas and Elrond full credit for this little mess. They really knew how to carefully dismantle every single plan he had had for this council. None of which included having his true heritage unceremoniously announced to this steward's son.

Nay, Aragorn knew Denethor too well to trust his favourite son so quickly.

"Havo dad, Legolas," (sit down)," he said wearily, wishing that his friend had not done that. He was not yet ready to get into a fight with the man he would usurp.

Boromir's glances at him had held no particular animosity towards him before but now those grey eyes were filled with malice, ready to fight for what he considered his, and not Aragorn's.

"Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king!" Boromir spat, sparing a glance for the ranger akin to how one would look at an unusually ugly orc.

Luckily for the ranger, Gandalf came to the rescue, obviously not wanting things to deteriorate so soon, and who jumped in to get things back on track. "Aragorn is right. We cannot use it. It has not been borne here through so much danger and toil merely to set a new dark lord in Sauron's place. We cannot use it. There is no one who would not be corrupted."

Boromir's eyes glinted as he gazed at the golden ring, and he soon deduced that the one who had brought it forth must also have been the one to carry it to Rivendell, and he swiftly put together that this was his riddle come true, "The Halfling!" he muttered, half to himself, "Is this then the doom of Minas Tirith come at last? But why then should we seek a broken sword?"

"The words were not the _doom of Minas Tirith_," said Aragorn, pointing out Boromir's tendency to overlook what did not concern him or his land and wondering how far Boromir's desire to save his homeland would drive him. The heir to the throne of Gondor decided to make a gesture of peace to the captain of Gondor, the man who could be his steward, and so spoke of plans only half thought out.

"But doom and great deeds are indeed at hand." he said, "For the Sword that was Broken is the Sword of Elendil that broke beneath him when he fell. It has been treasured by his heirs when all other heirlooms were lost; for it was spoken of old among us that it should be made again when the Ring, Isildur's Bane, was found. Now you have seen the sword that you have sought, what would you ask? Do you wish for the House of Elendil to return to the Land of Gondor?" he asked, carefully monitoring Boromir's reactions.

The captain evidently decided that outright hostility was not appropriate yet and so gave a more diplomatic answer than was his wont, "I was not sent to beg any boon, but to seek only the meaning of a riddle," answered Boromir proudly, refusing to lose face in front of his new rival, and conscious that he could not leave yet when such important matters were being discussed, "Yet we are hard pressed, and the Sword of Elendil would be a help beyond our hope - is such a thing could indeed return out of the shadows of the past." he said grudgingly, looking at the ranger Aragorn with doubt, anger and resentment in his eyes.

For her part, Arwen watched the exchange carefully and her discerning eyes could see the makings of a king in her betrothed. It seemed that Aragorn was finally accepting his destiny.

Beside her, Buffy had also watched them with interest; she thought that Boromir had all of his father's pride but not as many of his failings and that if Denethor's influence could be removed from him, he might come across as being a nicer guy, and perhaps slightly more manageable.

She watched curiously as Bilbo shifted in his seat, throwing many disgruntled looks in Boromir's direction on his friend's behalf until finally he abruptly stood up and burst out with a rhyme, fully intending to put the man of Gondor in his place for being so insulting towards Aragorn.

"All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost,

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not touched by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be the blade that was broken,

The crownless shall again by king." he rattled off, making several Elvenlords, and rangers, hide a smile behind their hands.

Aragorn wordlessly thanked Bilbo for his support and then just as wordlessly told him to back off. Bilbo complied reluctantly, plopping back into his seat somewhat irritated.

"For my part I forgive your doubt," Aragorn addressed Boromir, trying to both ease Boromir's dislike of him, and to take his attention away from the eldest hobbit, "Little do I resemble the figures of Elendil and Isildur as they stand carven in their majesty in the halls of Denethor. I am but the heir of Isildur, not Isildur himself. I have had a hard life and a long one; and the leagues of my journeys that lie between here and Gondor are but a small part in the count of my journeys…." he said, and saw the twins, Buffy and Legolas all give him a look that bespoke plainly of their astonishment at his gross under-representation of his many journeys, adventures and misadventures alike.

"But my home, such as I have, is in the North." Aragorn continued, looking in Arwen's direction for a moment, "For here the heirs of Valandil have ever dwelt in long line unbroken from father unto son for many generations. Our days have darkened, and we have dwindled; but ever the Sword has passed to a new keeper. And this I will say to you, Boromir, ere I end. Lonely men we are, Rangers of the wild, hunters - but hunters ever of the servants of the Enemy; for they are found in many places, not in Mordor only." Aragorn said and unbeknownst to him, power was in his voice and Boromir was forced to listen to the words he did not want to hear, whether he willed it or not.

"If Gondor, Boromir, has been a stalwart tower, we have played another part. Many evil things there are that your strong walls and bright swords do not stay. You know little of the lands beyond your bounds. Peace and freedom, do you say?" Aragorn scoffed, "The North would have know them little but for us. Fear would have destroyed them. But when dark things come from the houseless hills, or creep from the sunless woods, they fly from us. What roads would any dare to tread, what safety would there be in quiet lands, or in the homes of simple men at night, if the Dúnedain were asleep, or were all gone into the grave?"

The ranger's tone changed, becoming slightly bitter and weary as he related the Dúnedain's troubles, "And yet less thanks have we than you. Travellers scowl at us and countrymen give us scornful names. 'Strider' I am to one fat man who lives within a day's march of foes that would freeze his heart, or lay his little town in ruin, if he were not guarded ceaselessly. Yet we would not have it otherwise. If simple folk are kept free from care and fear, simple they will be, and we must be secret to keep them so. That has been the task of my kindred, while the years have lengthened and the grass has grown.

But now the world is changing once again. A new hour comes. Isildur's Bane is found. Battle is at hand. The Sword shall be reforged. I will come to Minas Tirith ere this war is over."

All was silent when he finished, and Boromir had to tear his eyes away from Aragorn, "Be that as it may," he said, unwilling to show how much that impassioned speech had affected him, "Gondor has no King. She needs none. And it will take more than a sword and a fool's claim to convince anybody that the king has indeed returned. And even more, why should we admit to our city, one from whose line only sorrow has sprung? Their weakness has led to Gondor's downfall and defeat on numerous occasions and to Arnor's fall. Nay, I am not satisfied with any of his arguments and I shall hold true to my lord father's rule, - never shall a mere ranger sit on the throne of Gondor." Boromir said, conscious of the ill will of some of the council towards him.

Aragorn knew better than to get into an argument with this son of Denethor, but Buffy was not prepared to let a little upstart go round insulting her friends like that.

"Your father says a lot of things," she said, drawing the man's attention towards her, "Doesn't mean they make any sense. Because to tell you the brutal truth, your father is an idiot."

Boromir bristled with anger at her words, "And what grudge do you have to make such an ill founded claim, lady?" he said with bare civility.

"Oh, I met the man," Buffy said airily, "A but too power mad for my tastes. Trust me, your grandfather wasn't exactly eager to surrender rule to Denethor either."

Boromir snorted derisively, "You speak of places and people that you have never met and have the gall to insult my family so?" he all but sneered, "And who are you to belong here? As we already have a man who wants to be king, I must guess that you believe yourself to be the long lost queen of Harad or some other nonsense?"

Buffy's smile was chilly and menacing, and never reached her eyes, "No, I think that I'll leave the nonsense to you. But listen here boy," she hissed, "I saw you born, don't think that I don't know what I'm talking about."

"You? A compulsive liar now, are we?" Boromir said, his anger growing, "You are younger than me."

Buffy decided to stick to her little white lie with regards to her ageing, "The Dúnedain are slow to age and long to live," she replied, "But maybe you've heard of me from your father. My name back then was Eliza, Ecthelion's lieutenant."

She knew that the Dwarves and hobbits were staring at her, but ignored them to enjoy Boromir's flabbergasted reaction, and Aragorn's knowing smirk.

"Is this true?" Boromir demanded of Lord Elrond, "Is she that wench?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed dangerously at his naming of her, but Elrond replied in the same long suffering tone usually reserved for his own children. "Yes, she speaks the truth. You would do well to listen to her, son of Denethor."

"Believe me now?" Buffy said, "Let me just make this clear; I was there, helping Finduilas when she brought you into this world, I can sure as hell take you back out of it. Don't push me, buddy. And I don't like being called a 'wench' Mr Big Shot."

Boromir just stared at her, trying to reconcile the woman before him with the tales that he occasionally heard from his father. Luckily for them, Gandalf decided to intervene again, "Perhaps, you should tell your own tale ere we move on, Buffy?" he asked, "As you seemed to have captured everyone's attention at the moment." he reprimanded.

Buffy was unrepentant, some people just needed to have their egos taken down a peg or two once in a while, and in her view Boromir was one of them.

"There's not too much to tell, really," Buffy began, "I've been patrolling the north for the last ten years now, and all I can say is that Sauron's little monsters have increased tenfold since I first started working in that area. He's sending in spies and nasties to hunt for something. Of course now we know what, but chances are he knows a lot about us too. And I wouldn't exactly be surprised if there were a welcoming party outside Rivendell just waiting for us."

"An ambush?" Gandalf asked, leaning forward.

"I doubt they'll brave the river when it flooded on top of the Ringwraiths, who to them are like the head nasties, but I think they're gonna pounce on anybody who sets foot outside the borders. They can't get in so they'll wait until we come out." Buffy said, authoritively, "They want the Ring. Badly."

"Like you would know anything about warfare," Boromir muttered from across the room, but Buffy heard him and her eyes narrowed in annoyance. If she kept this up, she was so going to get crows feet.

Buffy deliberately ignored him, vowing to get him back later, and Gandalf decided that the time was ripe to tell part of his story.

"Lady Buffy's observations are true," Gandalf said, "The enemy is hunting the Ring, and his eye is fixed on Rivendell. Already wargs prowl outside the borders. I know this for fact."

The wizard paused, leaning back in his chair as if to get comfortable, "Some here will remember that many years ago I myself dared to pass the doors of the Necromancer in Dol Guldur, and secretly explored his ways, and found thus that our fears were true; he was none other than Sauron, our Enemy of old, at length taking shape and power again. Some, too, will remember also that Sauron dissuaded us from open deeds against him, and for long we watched him only. Yet at last, as his shadow grew, Saruman yielded, and the Council put forth its strength and drove the evil out of Mirkwood - and that was in the very year of the finding of this Ring; a strange chance, if chance it was..."

Gandalf's eyes had hardened in memory of those days, the flame that was a maiar spirit flickering behind them, hidden but still visible to her eyes, and Buffy quickly realised that this was a sore spot for him. She knew how he felt, she never liked getting her butt kicked either.

"But we were too late, as Elrond foresaw, Sauron also had watched us and long prepared against our stroke, governing Mordor from afar through Minas Morgul, where his Nine servants dwelt, until all was ready. Then he gave away before us, but only feigned to flee, and soon after came to the Dark Tower and openly declared himself. Then for the last time the Council met; for now we learned that he was seeking ever more eagerly for the One. We feared than that he had some news of which we knew nothing of. But Saruman said nay, and repeated what he had said to us before; that the one would never again be found in Middle Earth."

"Saruman ever dissuaded the council from ever actively searching for the Ring," Arwen said, speaking up, "Lady Galadriel always wanted Gandalf to be its head but Saruman took that honour as he said that he was the head of the order of Istari (wizards)."

Gandalf nodded in agreement, "Aye Saruman was ever eager to downplay the risks of inaction. 'At the worst,' said he, 'Our Enemy knows that we have it not, and that it still is lost. But what was lost may yet be found, he thinks. Fear not! His hope will cheat him! Have I not earnestly studied this matter? Into Anduin the Great it fell; and long ago, while Sauron slept, it was rolled down the river to the sea. There let it lie until the End.'"

Here Gandalf fell silent, mentally chastising himself for his folly, "There I was at fault," he said, "I was lulled by the words of Saruman the Wise; but I should have sought for the truth sooner, and our peril would now be less."

"We were all at fault," said Elrond, reassuring his friend, "And but for your vigilance the Darkness, maybe, would already be upon us. By say on!"

"From the first my heart misgave me," Gandalf went on, "And against all reason that I knew, I desired to know how this thing came to Gollum, and how long he had possessed it. So I set a watch for him, guessing that he would ere long come forth from his darkness to seek for his treasure. He came, but he escaped and was not found. And then alas! I let the matter rest, watching and waiting only, as we have too often done.

Time passed with many cares, until my doubts were awakened again to sudden fear. Whence came the hobbit's ring? What, if my fear was true, should he be done with it? Those things I must decide. But I spoke yet of my dread to none, knowing the peril of an untimely whisper, if it went astray. In all the long years with the Dark Tower treason has ever been our greatest foe."

The wizard paused, "That was seventeen years ago. Soon I became aware that spies of many sorts, beasts and birds, were gathered round the Shire, and my fear grew. I called for the help of the Dúnedain, and their watch was doubled; and I opened my heart to Dagnir first, asking her to keep a watch on the north and especially on the Shire, and then to Aragorn, the heir of Isildur."

"And so I," said Aragorn, adding his part of the story, "counselled that we should hunt for Gollum, too late though it may seem. And since it seemed fit that Isildur's heir should labour to repair Isildur's fault, I went with Gandalf on the long and hopeless search."

Then Gandalf told how they had explored the whole length of Wilderland down even to the Mountains of Shadow and the fences of Mordor, hunting relentlessly and often hopelessly for the creature that could give Sauron what he wanted so badly.

Buffy had heard a lot about that trek from Legolas. Apparently Aragorn and the creature had arrived in Mirkwood and Aragorn had been a wreck. Covered in bite marks and scratches from Gollum, slathered in mud and dirt, his hair looking like the proverbial bird's nest and smelling like a wet bear.

Thranduil had apparently just been _so_ pleased to see them.

Especially since Aragorn bore such a _lovely_ gift to his woods.

But here Gandalf no more of Gollum for the time being, knowing that there was another part of that saga yet to come and instead spoke of the Ring and it's awful legacy. And then he said the words that darkened the skies and caused shivers to skitter down everyone's spine.

'Twas the words engraved onto the Ring, in their original form that was the Black Tongue, despised by all present.

A shadow seemed to pass over the high sun, and the porch for a moment grew dark. All trembled, and the Elves stopped their ears.

"Never before has any voice dared to utter words of that tongue in Imladris, Gandalf the Grey," said Elrond reproachfully when the shadow had passed, glaring balefully at the unrepentant wizard.

"And let us hope that none will ever speak it here again," answered Gandalf, giving Elrond a look that plainly bespoke that he would say his piece, whether it was to Elrond's tastes or not, "Nonetheless I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond. For if that tongue is not soon to be heard in every corner of the West, then let all put doubt aside that this thing is indeed what the Wise have declared; the treasure of the Enemy, fraught with all his malice; and in it lies a great part of his strength of old. Out of the Black Years come the words that the Smiths of Eregion heard, and knew that they had been betrayed.

__

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the Darkness bind them."

All there shivered once more at the words, especially those who understood their full meaning, but Buffy had had enough of prophecies and words written in stone, or gold as this case may be and so she spoke her mind, "They can only hurt you if you let them." she said, "And this Gollum thingy managed to hide from the Ring for four hundred years, without going all Dark Lordy. If you're scared of an inscription, who the hell is gonna be brave enough to even look at the Ring? Let's grow some spines people, if all Sauron needs to send us running is words, then we might as well start picking out our own chains now."

Elrond nodded at her words, "The lady is right, 'tis not the council's purpose to uncover the fear of the past but to forge the future. Speak on, Gandalf."

The wizard sighed and fingered his beard idly, "And now we must come back to Gollum, for I fear that he has yet some part to play in events for all his malice."

"He is a small thing, you say, this Gollum?" Boromir interrupted, "Small, but great in mischief. What became of him? To what doom did you put him?" Boromir asked.

"He is in prison, but no worse," said Aragorn, deciding to tackle this issue as he had been Gollum's personal jail warden for many weeks of travel, "He had suffered much and the fear of Sauron lies black on his heart. Still I for one am glad that he is safely kept by the Elves of Mirkwood. His malice is great and gives him a strength hardly to be believed in one so lean and withered. He could work much mischief still, if he were free." Aragorn said darkly.

Both Arwen and Buffy surreptitiously looked at Legolas, whose face had paled slightly in dismay. Both ladies knew that the Woodland Prince had not told Aragorn of the events surrounding Gollum's escape and having had the ranger's ire directed towards him already, he bore the risk of unleashing Aragorn's temper.

"The tidings I was sent to bring must now be told." Legolas spoke up, quietly but clearly able to be heard, "They are not good, but only here have I learned how evil they may seem to those here. Gollum has escaped." the prince's tone clearly carried his shame at his perceived failure to all those who knew him well enough to read it, but Aragorn heeded not his friend's guilty temperament so great was his surprise.

"Escaped?" cried Aragorn in shock and dismay, "That is ill news indeed! How came the folk of Thranduil to fail in their trust?"

Buffy visibly winced at Aragorn's accusing tone and she got the distinct feeling that Legolas would soon be back to blaming himself again. Aragorn would really need to hone his diplomacy ere he became king.

"Not through lack of watchfulness," said Legolas, not meeting Arwen's concerned gaze, "We guarded this creature day and night, at Gandalf's bidding, much though we wearied of the task."

The fair Elf paused, recollecting what he thought to be his own mistakes in handling the creature, "In the days of fair weather, we led Gollum through the woods, and there was a high tree standing alone far from the others which he liked to climb. Often we let him mount up to the highest branches, until he felt the free wind; but we set a guard at the tree's foot. One day he refused to come down, and the guards has no mind to climb after him: he had learned the trick of clinging to boughs with his feet as well as with his hands; so they sat by the tree far into the night."

Legolas's tone hardened as he recounted how his people were killed, "It was that very night of summer, yet moonless and starless, that orcs came on us unawares, we drove them off after some time; they were many and fierce, but they came from over the mountains, and were unused to the woods. When the battle was over, we found that Gollum was gone, and his guards were slain or taken. It then seemed plain to us that the attack had been made for his rescue, and that he knew of it beforehand. How that was contrived we cannot guess; but Gollum is cunning, and the spies of the Enemy are many. The dark things that were driven out in the year of the Dragon's fall have returned in greater numbers, and Mirkwood is again an evil place, save where our realm is maintained."

The prince raised his eyes to look around the council, judging the reactions and noting the Dwarves' snickering and contempt, "We have failed to recapture Gollum. We came on his trail among those of many orcs, and it plunged deep into the Forest, going south. But ere long it escaped out skill, and we dared not continue the hunt; for we were drawing nigh to Dol Guldur, and that is still a very evil place; we do not go that way."

"Let me guess," Buffy said, "He got some of his orcy buddies to help him fly the coop. Literarily."

"Buffy, you must not jump to conclusions…" Erestor chastised her.

"No jumping. Look - feet firmly planted." Buffy exclaimed, "I was only saying that it was just a tad too convenient that he just happened to refuse to go inside on the night of a raid."

"I agree," Elrond said, "And I lay no fault upon the Elves of the Wood. The cunning of the Enemy must never be underestimated and Thranduil's realm has already paid a heavy price."

Legolas looked gratefully at the Elvenlord whilst Arwen, feeling the Prince's discomfort, drew attention away from Gollum's escape, "Saruman has betrayed us," she announced regally, "He serves Mordor now as Gandalf the Grey found out to his own detriment."

"He imprisoned me, and he hungers for the Ring," Gandalf said, taking over from the elleth (She-Elf). "He can no longer be counted our ally."

"That is evil news," Legolas said, "But my lord father never trusted him and 'tis better that his betrayal is now known than hidden until it was too late."

"Well spoken Thranduil (son of Thranduil)," Gandalf agreed, "'Tis an evil business but Saruman has great power to do evil in his quest for power and he is a danger to all who are here today, and their lands."

"Does this not also affect the Rohirrim?" Boromir asked, "The Wizard's Vale is near the Gap of Rohan, is it not?"

"Many things have been said about the Riders of Rohan," Aragorn said, "Some say that they now pay tribute and levies to Mordor."

"I rode with the Rohirrim years ago," Buffy said firmly, wondering if Aragorn really believed those stupid lies or if he was just trying to wind Boromir up, "If Théoden has fallen to shadow, his kin has not. The Rohirrim do not treat with Sauron. He steals the horses he needs, and it's been a long time since there were many black horses in the Riddermark because of it. Rohan might be beset, but don't underestimate them."

"I do not," Boromir said stiffly, "They have long been allies of Gondor."

"And long ignored by Denethor," Buffy muttered.

Elrond cleared his throat meaningfully, "Now that all has been recounted, the time has come for hard decisions. We must decide what is to be done with the Ring." the Elvenlord said ominously.

"Can the power of Imladris not guard it?" Galdor from the Havens asked.

"The time of the Elves is fading." Arwen said, sounding very much like her revered grandmother, "What power that remains lies with us, here in Imladris, or with Círdan at the Havens, or in Lórien. But have they the strength, have we the strength to withstand the Enemy, the coming of Sauron at the last, when all else is overthrown?"

"I have not the strength," Elrond said, "Neither have they." The Elves would never have that kind of strength again on this side of the Great Sea unless the world was unmade.

"Then if the Ring cannot be kept from him for ever by strength," said Glorfindel, leaning forward in his seat, his bright golden hair gleaming in the sun, "Two things remain for us to attempt; to send it over Sea, or to destroy it."

"But Gandalf has revealed to us that we cannot destroy it by any craft we here possess," said Elrond, "And they who dwell beyond the Sea would not receive it; for good or ill it belongs to Middle Earth; it is for us who still dwell here to decide."

"Then," said Glorfindel, "Let us cast it into the deeps, and so make the lies of Saruman come true. In the Sea it would be safe."

"Not safe for ever," said Gandalf, shaking his head, "There are things in the deep waters and lands may change. We should be the final end to this menace, even if we do not hope to make one."

"Then," Erestor said, "There are but two courses, as Glorfindel already has declared; to hide the Ring for ever; or to unmake it. But both are beyond our power. Who will read this riddle for us?"

"None here can do so," Elrond said gravely, "At least none can foretell what will come to pass, if we take this road or that. But it seems to me now clear which is the road that we must take. Now at this last, we must take a hard road, a road unforeseen. There lies our hope, if hope it be. To walk into peril - to Mordor. It seems that we have only that one choice. The Ring must be destroyed. We must send the Ring to the Fire."

"Then what are we waiting for?!" Gimli cried. The Dwarf surged forward with his axe and tried to smash the Ring, but he only got thrown back onto the ground while his axe was shattered into pieces.

Several people, Buffy and Frodo most noticeably, flinched when an echo of the dark words of the Ring followed in Gimli's wake, as if it were mocking the Dwarf's feeble attempts to destroy it.

Elrond looked at the rash Dwarf in annoyance, "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin, by any craft that we here possess."

"And why is the Ring not used?" Boromir growled out, "Cannot even the Elves wield it to overthrow Sauron?"

"Nothing is evil in the beginning. Even Sauron was not so. I fear to take the Ring to hide it. I will not take the Ring to wield it." Elrond said, as Gandalf and the other Elves echoed his statement.

"The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom." Elrond said, "Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."

"One does not simply walk into Mordor." Boromir growled out, rubbing his forehead with his hand as if he was talking to a particularly dumb group of people, "Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air that you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly." he hissed.

"You gotta go there to come back first," Buffy said, "Nothing's impossible unless you don't try. And speaking from personal experience there. I got in and out of Mordor easy enough."

"We do not have the luxury of the armies of old, son of Denethor," Aragorn said calmly, "Every realm's standing army is less than what it was the last time Sauron arose to threaten them. Stealth and patience are our only advantages. We must finish Sauron if we are to have peace."

"So said the Last Alliance. I for one, Aragorn, am not waiting there for seven years." Buffy said, "Marching in there isn't gonna get anything done 'cept getting us killed. And the Ring snatched. Think of something else. Something off the wall. They usually work best, you know 'fortune favours the brave' and all that."

"One cannot just stroll into Mordor, despite what you claim!" Boromir cried in anger at Buffy.

Legolas rose up in anger for the treatment of his friend, "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed!"

Arwen sighed, and then leaned over to whisper to the slayer, "Do you think we shall be able to sneak out before it gets violent?"

Buffy shook her head, "I kinda doubt it," she said wryly.

"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?!" Gimli said, looking at the Elf with loathing.

Boromir continued on his pessimistic streak, "And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?" he demanded.

Gimli just growled and cried out, "I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!"

Nearly all the Elves stood up in anger, with only Legolas holding them back from showing the Naugrim Elven fury, while the Dwarves rushed to back up Gimli, and even Gandalf waded into the mess.

"Never trust an Elf!" Gimli roared, only adding fuel to the bickering crowd.

And then Gandalf's voice rose above the din, "Do you not understand? While you bicker amongst yourselves, Sauron's power grows! None can escape it! You'll all be destroyed!"

Both Buffy and Frodo gasped as a voice echoed in their minds, a low sibilant whisper, _'Ash nazg durbatuluk, Ash nazg gimbatul, Ash nazg thrakatuluk, Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul…' _One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

"Do you think we can _try _to keep the paranoia and the character assassination to a minimum during this council?" Buffy reprimanded, debating whether or not to start flinging people around. "We're supposed to be talking not arguing!" she cried, "But go right on ahead! So long as we can keep the world from ending and all the rest of the little stuff!"

Elrond seemed to be debating also on whether or not to let Buffy break up the fight and regain control of his council.

Frodo stood up abruptly, "I will take it! I will take it!"

Everything came to a screeching halt and Gandalf looked pained at his words.

"See? Under control." Buffy whispered to Elrond, earning herself a sharp glare.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor... Though - though I do not know the way." Frodo said hesitantly.

Gandalf stepped forward to stand next to Frodo, putting a hand on the brave hobbit's shoulder and wondering if the halfling had any idea what he had just vowed to do. "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins. As long as it is yours to bear." he said.

Aragorn's mind was conflicted but after a moment, he came forward to kneel in front of Frodo, "If by my life or death, if I can protect you, I will." he said sincerely, "You have my sword."

Elrond looked surprised, and even more so when Gandalf winked at him. Buffy and Arwen had to repress sudden giggles at the perplexed look on the Elvenlord's face.

"And you have my bow." Legolas said, wanting to make up for Gollum's escape. He did not notice Arwen's worried eyes following him.

"And my axe." said Gimli, glowering at the Elf. He could never let it be said that Gimli Glóin's son had let the One Ring march into Mordor alongside an Elf!

Boromir walked slowly towards Frodo, his face grave, "You carry the fates of us all, little one." Grey eyes narrowed as he watched Aragorn place a protective hand on Frodo's shoulder as he approached. So the ranger trusted him not. What a surprise. "If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."

"Here now!" shouted Sam, jumping out from behind some bushes and running up to Frodo, "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me!" he said stoutly.

Elrond smiled, half amused and half exasperated, "No, indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you from him, even when he is summoned to a secret Council, and you are not." he intoned sarcastically.

Merry and Pippin rushed in, causing Elrond to give them his renowned death glare and Buffy and Arwen to keep their faces strategically blank to cover laughter, "Oi! We're coming too!" Merry said. "You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us."

"Anyway," Pippin chimed in, "you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission. Quest. Thing…"

Merry gave him a long suffering look, "Well that rules you out, Pip."

Buffy studied the bedraggled group gathered; one crazy coot of a wizard, two vying lords of Gondor at each other's throats, one guilty Elf, one enraged Dwarf and four clueless hobbits. Obviously the task force of dreams.

But her gaze was always drawn back to Frodo.

The hobbit looked frightened and miserable and as if he had no idea why he had just done what he did. Buffy could sympathise, the slayer 'saviour of the world' thing had been thrust upon her too. And looking at him, she knew he would need someone to show him the ropes and hopefully teach him about the hard things and decisions in life without him having to learn them the hard way like she had had to.

Stepping forward, she looked at Frodo, and her gaze was no longer her own but that of the slayer, "Can you do this, Frodo?" she demanded, "Can you see this through at all costs? Are you strong enough to do this?"

Frodo looked at her in surprise, "I think I am," he muttered softly, unwilling to meet those unnaturally blazing eyes.

"You think?" Buffy said in disbelief, "With that reply, the answer could only be no. So it looks like someone's gonna have to babysit the lot of you so I'll tag along too. Someone has to go there who actually knows how to get to Mordor," her glance drifted to Aragorn, "And accidentally stumbling into it so does not count!"

Elrond nodded, "Ten companions. So be it! I can do no more. You have all chosen. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Great." Pippin said brightly, "Where are we going?" he then spotted the ring on the table, "Oooh! Can I try it on?"

"Oh, absolutely not!" Elrond replied in something resembling shock.

And so the Fellowship of the Ring was formed but not all were happy with it.  
  
Aragorn tried desperately to hide his displeasure at Buffy being chosen. Valar knew she was a brilliant and deadly warrior, more than capable of holding her own and would undoubtedly be a great help to the Fellowship. But all Aragorn was thinking was that she could be going to certain death. Ever since he had found out about her calling as slayer, he had mourned the loss of her youth that it had caused and deeply resented the brave woman being forced to enter into wars not of her own making.

It was much the same when he thought of Legolas. He had not thought Elrond would send Thranduil's only heir on this quest. Had not even considered it really and now one of his dearest friends, his cherished brother, was joining him in this journey of utmost peril. Thranduil would not be pleased.

He most certainly was not.

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Buffy was leaving the council chambers after a lengthy talk with Elrond when as she turned into one of the lesser used halls, a shortcut of sorts to her rooms, an arm like a steel band wrapped around her.

Looking at the man responsible, she graced him with a deadly glare. "Aragorn," she greeted, "Any particular reason you're manhandling me?"

"You joined the Fellowship," Aragorn replied darkly, leading her along the corridor, his arm still around her, until they reached his rooms and he had hauled her inside.

"You noticed, huh?" Buffy said, "What did you think I was doing? Advertising my intention to out-eat Bilbo?"

"Are you out of your mind? Do you not know what this quest entails?" Aragorn hissed angrily, letting go of her and crossing his arms across his chest to purposefully glower at her.

"I'm sure there's nothing I couldn't do half dead." Buffy said, "Why are you making with the dictator routine?"

"'Tis so nice to know you kept that humility you were known for." Aragorn said, "But again, I ask you, do you have any idea what lies ahead of the Fellowship on the road to Mordor?!"

Buffy cocked her head to the side and pretended to think, "Well…" she began, "I think we're all doomed to badness. But that's just experience speaking. It's not like I'm a slayer or anything, now is it?" she finished tightly.

"This quest has little chance of ending good," Aragorn said.

"I know, but I like to keep things positive," Buffy said, "After all, if you thought the whole thing was heading for a terrible, catastrophic end, you'd abandon everything or give up. I learned quite a while ago not to give up."

"I do not want you to go." Aragorn said imperiously.

Buffy just looked at him, "Well tough, but I don't answer to you remember?" she huffed in an annoyed manner, "Look, it's kinda amusing that you're making with the overprotective routine, but hello? I am the slayer. I get to protect you, not the other way round."

"I forbid you to go Buffy!" Aragorn cried in anger, "You would only die!"

"Well, it's nice to know that you think so little of me, but sadly, that argument hasn't worked. Ever. So give it up before you get another punch, ranger boy." Buffy answered angrily.

"Will you not listen to reason? Mordor is no place for you!"

"It's no place for the hobbits here, but hey, they're going!" Buffy exclaimed, "Stop doing this Aragorn. I have no intention of arguing for another ten years and I don't think you want Arwen and Boromir to see getting thrown out yet another window."

"Can you not see that I only wish to help you?" Aragorn said quietly, "Why can you not just agree to this and let us part in peace?"

"Because I gave my word I would help Frodo, I never said I would help you." Buffy said, "I'm the thing monsters have nightmares about it. Not some poor defenceless maiden that needs protection. Concentrate on the hobbits Aragorn, they seem to strike me as the ones who should be staying behind."

"So the glory of it attracts you then? A noble quest would add to your accomplishments, would it not?"

"Glory-seeking is not really my thing." Buffy said, "Or you would have already witnessed 'Buffy does a Glorfindel on the Balrog' in Moria, but because I'm not some glory seeking gold-digger as you're suggesting, I thought, 'What? A flaming death for yours truly? I don't think so.' and let it be. Can we stop the total idiocy that is this conversation now before I hurt you?" she demanded.

"Can I not be worried about you?!" Aragorn demanded.

"Really?" Buffy replied, "Why me? It seems that besides Gandalf I am in need of the least protection, why does Legolas miss out on the lecture and I get a double dose of it?!"

Aragorn's expression darkened further, "Thranduilion is next," he said.

"Pathetic much?" Buffy said, "We are grown warriors not babies, Aragorn!"

"You have no idea what you have pledged to do! Legolas belongs with his people and you have already done enough for Middle Earth!"

"I'm sorry, is it gang up on Buffy day and nobody told me?" Buffy said, "This was _my_ choice Aragorn! Not yours! Mine!"

"Am I supposed to be sorry about caring for you?!" Aragorn said, his voice rising, "Because you cannot expect me to rejoice in this… whim."

"Oh are we back to blaming _me_ for thisagain?" Buffy asked, her own face grim.

"Of course!" Aragorn exclaimed, "You will not listen to reason, or consider the wishes of my heart!"

"Just checking." Buffy said sarcastically, "But let me just make this clear for all the numbskulls in the audience, which would be you, that I don't have to consider your 'wishes'. I'm my own woman and I do what I damn well please!"

She turned to leave the room, but Aragorn grabbed her roughly by her sleeve and tore the delicate fabric. Buffy's mad level just went up big time.

"I cannot believe you did that!" she cried, "Okay, that's I am _so_ beyond mad with you now!"

"You're mad _now_?" he repeated in visible disbelief.

"You attacked a woman's wardrobe. What did you expect?" Buffy replied, "And I would consider myself pretty tolerant for putting up with your 'reasoning' for me not to go. So why don't you quit with the harassment before I get violent?"

"Buffy…" Aragorn began but the slayer cut him off.

"Just leave it, Aragorn."

He grabbed her again, "Will you please sit down?! I am trying to apologise here!" he said in frustration. "I know I cannot stop you from going but that does not mean that I did not have to try!"

Buffy stood up and once more headed towards the door, "But it does mean that you could have some respect for my decisions. Namárië (farewell) Aragorn," she said and exited the room to find two young hobbits pressed to the door, clearly eavesdropping and decided to have some fun. The hobbits at hearing her coming tried to run but Merry accidentally smacked into the wall, stopping their flight and allowing Buffy to catch them in the act.

"Why do you start acting all weird when I'm around?" she said suddenly, scaring the living daylights out of the two guilty periannath (hobbits).

"Me?" Pippin said nervously, "Me not weird." he said trying to look innocent.

Buffy wasn't fooled in the slightest.

"What's up with you? Did you get into the sugar again?" she said, baiting them.

Merry and Pippin shook their heads in the negative, Buffy nodded her own in confirmation. "Eavesdropping Master Hobbits?" she said, "Tsk, tsk. Very bad form from you two and full marks on the botched running away. You're gonna have to learn to do that better."

"We panicked." Merry said sheepishly, trying to pass this off as a normal occurrence.

Pippin echoed him eagerly, nodding his head, "Uh-huh. That's exactly what happened!"

"Next time boys, let's try to be a little more inconspicuous and for the record, eavesdrop on me again and I will personally make sure that you are bald and on a diet for the next century."

Their eyes widened comically and they both looked at Buffy in horrified surprise. But the slayer just laughed and walked away.

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Beyond and above spread an expanse of sky, dark blue as at twilight; rising into the sky, was a woman's shape to the bust, portrayed in tints of dusk and soft as I could combine. The dim forehead was crowned with a star, the lineaments below were seen as through the suffusion of vapour; the eyes shone dark and wild; the hair streamed shadowy, like a beamless cloud torn by storm or by electric travail. On the neck lay a pale reflection like moonlight; the same faint lustre touched the train of thin clouds from which rose and bowed this vision of the Evening Star.

- From the novel Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.

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An isolated section of Celebrían's gardens, the Last Homely House, Rivendell, 3018 TA, October 30.

When Aragorn arrived at the bridge he considered 'theirs', her familiar mithril gaze followed his every step.

Arwen Undómiel, also called Arwen Peredhel (half-Elven) the Evenstar of her people, stood there patiently waiting for him. Her raven hair was unbound save for a small cap of white gems in her hair, making it seem as the very stars had come down from the heavens to grace her with their presence.

Those mithril hued eyes were fixed on him, and her lovely face was turned towards him, waiting for him expectantly.

Here in this scene of hazy twilight in the hidden valley, Aragorn was sure he had never seen such a vision.

For her part, as Arwen watched the man approach, she briefly regretted the pain that she was about to inflict on his tender heart, but such feelings were swiftly replaced by the sense of rightness about her choice that prevailed over her fondness for Aragorn.

She had made her decision, her choice as one of the Peredhel.

Now, she was to finally voice it.

She waited until he came to her and took her hands in his, "Undómiel," he breathed, "Vanima…" (beautiful)

"Renich i lú i erui govannem?" (Do you remember when we first met?) she said softly, her expression tender for Aragorn's unknown doom.

Aragorn smiled at her, holding her close despite Arwen's as of yet subtle attempts to step back, "Nauthannen i ned ôl reniannen." (I thought I had strayed into a dream.) he replied, gazing at her intently.

Arwen bowed her head, "Gwenwin in enninath. Ú-'arnech in naeth i si celich. Renech i beth i pennen?" (Long years have passed. You did not wear the troubles you carry now. Do you remember what I told you?) she said, both dreading the scene that was to come and welcoming it as it would set her free.

"You said you would bind yourself to me, forsaking the immortal life of your people." Aragorn said, wondering why she brought this up now.

Arwen squeezed Aragorn's hands which were still holding hers, and took a step back, immediately noting the confusion on his face.

"We pledged our troth on Cerin Amroth, many years ago to your race, and now the time has come to settle that pledge anew." Arwen said, trying to be as gentle as possible to the man that she had once loved, even if it had been nothing more than a dream.

"Arwen, wait," Aragorn said, "Before we discuss this, there is something I must say to you, something that must justly be said ere we speak of troths again. Idhren emmen menna gui ethwel. Hae o auth a nîr a naeth." (You have a chance for another life. Away from war... grief... despair.)  
  
Arwen looked at him closely, sensing that this was not spoken from the heart but from the urging of her adar (father), "Why are you saying this?"  
  
Aragorn forced himself to say the words that had haunted him ever since Elrond had spoken to him, "I am mortal; you are Elfkind. It was a dream, Arwen, nothing more."

"You do not speak from your heart," Arwen chastised, "The time for lies is over, Estel (hope). And while I think your regard is in your mind unchanged, my feelings have not remained so."

Aragorn felt the first skitters of apprehension in his mind, "What are you saying, meleth?" (love)

"Aragorn," Arwen began gently, looking into his grey eyes so that he could see she spoke true, "I cannot bind myself to you. I cannot marry you."

Aragorn reeled back as though he had been struck, "What?!" he gasped, as it felt as though his heart was being rent in two.

"Aragorn, you cannot have been blind to this," Arwen said gently, entreating the man to accept this, "Our love has faded since our pledge and though I treasure its memory, I cannot bind myself to something which does not exist anymore. I love you as a cherished brother, and I willingly release you from your betrothal. My heart is no longer yours, just as yours has never been mine."

Aragorn let all his unfathomable hurt shine through as he spoke to her, to his former lady, "Why Arwen? I have always loved you! From the moment I saw you, my heart was ever yours!" he cried, absolutely devastated as one of the certain things in his life, - Arwen's love - had been taken away from him so abruptly.

Her face was filled with understanding and sorrow, and she reached up to gently caress his face, "You believed in a dream, Aragorn. You wished to believe in it. You wished to atone for your ancestors' wrongs by not repeating their mistakes, and you were so young as to believe in the stuff of fairytales." she said softly, "You wished to make true the tale of Lúthien and Beren, you wished to be as strong as you thought he was. You do not need a dream to believe in yourself Aragorn. You do not need me to be King. It is in your very blood, and your heart is more noble than any of your line since Elendil. Yet you doubt yourself so, and you thought that our love could help you conquer the shadow."

She paused for a moment, "I had my doubts on Cerin Amroth, but I thought that time would carry them away and I wished to give you the succour you so desperately needed to fight against the Shadow and to become the King you were born to be. You never needed me as you have needed others, Aragorn and for so long have you fought your own heart in pursuit of a mere dream. I cannot let this continue Aragorn. Our hearts were never fully each other's and I cannot justify this charade any longer."

"So you would break my heart with your gentle words, lady," Aragorn said bitterly, "But it seems that 'tis ever that way, and that those you love most are the most capable of hurting you to the bone."

"You hurt now, but in the end you will thank me," Arwen said, determined not to back down in the face of his anger and grief.

Unclasping the gem at her neck, she pressed it into Aragorn's hands. The ranger looked at it in surprise, "I choose an immortal life," she said, announcing her final choice and fate as was her right, and she spoke as she closed his hand over the jewel, "But to you I would give this as a token of my affection."  
  
"You cannot give me this." Aragorn protested, "You are no longer mine."

"It is mine to give to whom I will. Like my heart. And I wish for it to you with you on your journey, gwanur (kinsman) and for it to help you and your companions ward off the shadow."

He tried to return it to her repeatedly, "This belongs to you."

"It is a gift. Keep it." Arwen said, "And I shall only take it back when we meet again after the ending of the Shadow."

"You hope for much," Aragorn said, unwilling to look at her.

"I wish for it to help you on this dark journey, so that the grace of the Elves may go with you. Do not look on this parting with anger or regret, Aragorn, we were just not meant to be. Let us part without anger at each other, and as friends. 'Tis the start of a new beginning for both of us." Arwen said with a small and tender smile, as she tried to soothe Aragorn's hurt feelings and his supposedly broken heart, "I shall sail West with my father and my people when the time comes with no regrets. And neither should you carry any with you on your journey. Let our love go without regrets and rejoice in what you have."

"And what do I have Lady Undómiel?" Aragorn said bitterly, trying to move away, "All have forsaken me now. Even you whom I treasured above all."

Arwen looked at him, probing him and his heart, "How is it that you do not see what is before your very eyes?" she asked, holding his arm to prevent him moving away, "Listen to me, son of Arathorn, for too long have I watched you and wondered. And my eyes have been opened too, and I wonder that I know your own heart better than you seem to do."

"Would you now mock me with your words, and further injure my heart, which you have already run through with a sword?" Aragorn cried.

"Nay, I would help you find love," Arwen said, reaching out to the hurting man, "Your love for me was little more than a dream, a fantasy to succour you in times of need, but long now has your heart belonged to another, even if you did not realise it."

"What in Arda are you saying?" Aragorn demanded.

"To be blunt, Estel," Arwen said, "As it seems that you will not understand this any other way, I say this to you. You have been in love with Buffy Dagnir for decades now, without ever acknowledging it. Ever has the greater part of your heart been hers, until I was nothing more than a shadow in its recesses."

Aragorn just gaped at her, "Me? In love with Buffy?!"" he repeated incredulously, "Are you mad, Arwen?! She is a treasured friend, nothing more!"

"And still you deny it!" Arwen cried, "Her heart bleeds for love of you and you have never noticed. I admit that I was blind until recently, but you have yet to admit it at all. If she was only a dear friend as you claim, why do you care so deeply for her? Why are you so protective of her? Why do you go so far to try to keep her from harm? Why does her well-being matter so much to you? Why do you value her counsel so highly? Why does her very _presence _cheer you so greatly?! You cannot deny this, Aragorn. Deny anything else you want, deny my regard for you if it pleases you, but do not deny your own heart! Not when in doing so, you wound hers in the process! Wake up and open your eyes Estel! Look into your heart and _see _the love that you bear for her! And maybe then you can stop lying to yourself, to me and to her."

"Buffy?!" Aragorn's mind could not grasp the concept, "She is as a sister to me!"

Arwen sighed in frustration, having never noticed how truly stubborn her former lover could be, "Aragorn, you need someone who can understand you. You always have. And deep in your heart, you must have known it could never have been me. You need someone who can understand the hardships of a warrior, someone akin to you and someone who knows the darker side of the world. My adar (father) has sheltered me greatly, I know 'tis why you always sought out Buffy over me."

Aragorn winced at her words, knowing as well as she of the distance that had grown between them of late, and his own reluctance when it came to confiding in her.

The ranger who would be king was silent and Arwen spoke up again ere he could run from her and leave her message unfinished. She still had some things to do ere they parted.

"Buffy has held your heart for longer than I held yours," Arwen said without bitterness or condemnation, "And she has long hid her own feelings for you, not wishing to spoil our perceived happiness. She has a noble heart and would not intrude on us so. But the time for lies and misunderstandings is over, she is your heart's choice and I set you free to go to her, just as I set myself free to find my own mate."

Arwen removed the Ring of Barahir from her hand and returned it to the stunned heir of Isildur, "Let your heart guide you to her, mellon nín (my friend)," she said tenderly but firmly, "She will be a good match for you, better than I was, and I look forward to wishing you much joy in the future. Give her the ring, Aragorn; for it was always hers and never truly mine…"

And with those parting words, the Evenstar leaned up and placed a chaste farewell kiss on his lips, and then left, a vision of twilight melting into the growing darkness, leaving Aragorn to stare at the heirloom ring, shock and wonder freezing his very thoughts, but ever did one name come to his lips, "Buffy…."

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A/N: So? What do you think of the Revelation? Feedback please! Please READ and REVIEW!!!

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Next chapter: the House of Elrond celebrates, Aragorn reels, we see a slayer on the rampage, Thranduil has a heart attack, and Elrond gets mad.

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Elvish:

Havo dad - sit down

Istari - wizards

Imladris - Rivendell

Dagnir - slayer

Elleth - she-Elf

Naugrim - Dwarves

Namárië - farewell

Periannath - hobbits

Undómiel - Evenstar

Peredhel - Half-Elven

Vanima - beautiful

Adar - father

Estel - hope

Meleth - love

Gwanur - kinsman

mellon nín - my friend

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Aman - also called the Blessed Realm, Valinor or the Undying Lands. Home of the Elves in the West.

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Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

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Cerin Amroth - 'Amroth's Mound' in Sindarin.

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Círdan - also called 'the Shipwright'. Lord of the Grey Havens. The only Elf with a beard.

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Ephel Dúath - Mountains of Shadow. Also called the Fence of Shadow. The mountain range separating Gondor and Mordor.

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Gil-galad - Last High King of the Noldor. King of Lindon. Died during the final battle of the Last Alliance.

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Heren Istarion - Order of Wizards

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Ithilien - territory of Gondor, east of Anduin. In the earliest time the possession of Isildur and ruled from Minas Ithil.

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Lúthien - Daughter of King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia. Born in the First Age. Married a mortal man and came back from the dead as a mortal after convincing Mandos with a song to release her and her love, Beren. Considered the most beautiful Elf-maid to walk Arda. Elrond's foremother.

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Mithlond - the Grey Havens. Ruled by Círdan.

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Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980.

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Morannon - The Black Gate of Mordor.

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Naugrim - 'stunted ones'. Elvish term for Dwarves.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Orthanc - the great Númenórean tower in the Circle of Isengard. Home of Saruman.

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The guarded city - Minas Tirith. The city was once called 'Minis Anor' - 'Tower of the Sun' but it's name was changed when both Minas Ithil and Osgiliath fell.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	25. Pandemonium

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: While I hate to crush hopes, (who am I kidding? I LOVE to do it!), for all those who want a quick fix to the Buffy/Aragorn saga, it will not be forthcoming. Did any of you really think that I would let you or them off that easy? One battle is over, but the war has only begun….

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Warning!: the author accepts no fault for any homicidal rages induced.

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P.S - there will be smut and cuddly scenes to sustain you though!

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Review responses:

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - sure, just e-mail me and give me the details!

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Anna - giddiness seems to be the order of the day… keep wondering about Denethor, he will show up in later chapters though so you'll get to hear it first hand…

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BuffyandDracoLover - no, Boromir will _not _be making a move on Buffy.

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ChibiChibi - Of course it had to be intense! It was the Break-Up! And sadly, I never make anything easy in this fic.. Well, except trouble. That always comes easily. You're on the right track about Frodo and Buffy's reaction to the Ring.

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Colon - the torture is not over yet…

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Draco's Slytherin Vampiress - Yes, it will take a while. You really didn't think I was going to let you off that easy did you?

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FallenStar2 - I think in this story, Arwen could be the _only_ one to tell Aragorn the 'truth'. and let's just say that Arwen is very intent on finding her own happiness!

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Gaul1 - Estel has to get his own head around it first.

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goldenshadows - This is Aragorn, of course it's going to be a while! Arwen and Legolas shall come together in their own time…

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Haley - I wouldn't leave you hanging that badly!

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Heavenstar3 - yes, that would make Buffy Queen.

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Hinomi - I have a slight tendency to lurk myself. And that question came up A LOT!!!!

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immortalwizardpirateelf-fan - yes, your suggestion had considerable merit so I let it inspire me…

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Jania - I hope to make her journey… unconventional… to say the least.

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Jess S1 - (bow dramatically) thank you! Yes, Boromir has heard tales of 'Eliza', direct from Denethor's mouth. I'll leave the rest to your imagination… And there will be _plenty_ of B/A interaction in the future!

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Julie - plenty more drama! I'm _nowhere_ near done yet!

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Lady Alathon - Buffy's mithril shirt is still with her. But with no battles, there's been no need to wear it lately. Am I working on 'A Light'? sadly, the answer is no. I got a really, really flaming e-mail which pointed out a lot of flaws in basically everything which I hadn't seen before. As I kinda agree with their assessment, I am concentrating on writing better quality fiction, especially of the BtVS/LotR variety. Boromir ass kicking will be prevalent. And plenty of Arwen/Legolas.

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Lady of the Wood - you're gonna have to get used to the wait! But the waiting should be interesting… Arwen will commence plotting on how to snare an Elven Prince soon… and is Buffy gonna tell Aragorn anything about the bond? No, not yet.

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LilPsychoGrl51 - thanks! Yes, Aragorn not gonna confront Buffy for a while! And unfortunately, I'm evil, and so tears have no effect!

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LizaGirl - Don't worry, Arwen will not disappear from this fic.

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Lunawolf - you'll adore me at the end then. Or hate me.

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Malfeus - awww! Thanks! And I sadly don't have telekinesis, which would just be so handy to have!

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Mari - of course it won't be easy!

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MiShA - Aragorn's not totally there yet though… yes, there will be some Boromir/Buffy interaction in the future!

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Pamie884 - don't get your hopes up yet..

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Phoenix83ad - aww! You cried? And I personally hate the 'it's not you, it's me' line. Yes, Aragorn is a tad overprotective, just watch how he gets now that he knows he loves her! Yes, plenty of Merry and Pippin to come. Those two have this absolutely insatiable curiosity don't they? And what will happen now? That's a very good question…

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psycho elf - hi to you too oh friendly rival! And yes, I know. ONE vote, talk about a close race! I actually flicked through your story too, and though LotR/PotC was never really my thing, I had to admit that it is good. Congratulations to you too and I'll probably see you or your speech at the awards ceremony!

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restive nature - (Asha bounces happily) yes, Elrond had great trouble trying to teach Buffy to be a lady and he _still_ hasn't managed it! But you're right, she has come a long way. And yes, Buffy does have a tendency to get walked on emotionally. Unfortunately that's generally coupled with a need for some kick ass revenge when things get ugly. And I would imagine the word 'diet' to hobbits is the equivalent of Sauron appearing on anyone else's doorstep with an army in tow. And yes, Aragorn would never have figured it out on his own, so Arwen nudged him along. I mean, if he can't realise who he himself is in love with, how does she expect him to figure out who Buffy loves? And you do have a psychic streak, don't you? You really gave an accurate depiction of where I'm going with this fic, and the B/A relationship. Good call!

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Seraya - so sweet!

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ShawThang - thanks! And _of course_ I'll drag them through the mud first! Would I be Asha if I didn't? I mean, come on, I have a tendency towards evil that just keeps increasing… not to mention that I have _so_ much fun to have with those characters yet… Yes, this fic will cover the Arwen/Legolas thing so no worries there!

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Sparky24 - overprotective thy name is Aragorn.

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Star - somebody's happy. Good call on the chapter number but as this story gets bigger every time I go back to it, I can't say for sure.

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Tiamante Salazar Tameran - thank you! I'm always glad to welcome new readers! Thank you for all your wonderful comments and I hope you continue to like my fic!

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Wild320 - 'hardships' is an understatement. Just a friendly warning.

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And major thanks to:

Batgirl Beyond, Darkvampirewitch, Destiny's Dragon, ellie, Fish Head the 3rd, Imp17, Lanfear1, Little Red Rabbit, lysia1982, Mesa Juu-Chan, moonbunny77, Ms8309, N/A, Night-Owl123, Rain Dancer2, TroubleMakerQueen,

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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: PANDEMONIUM

"Buffy…."

Aragorn lowered himself to the ground shakily, sitting down on the soft grass. He had never expected the night to end like this, for him to lose his beloved Arwen…

The Evenstar's words still rang in in his mind as he sightlessly stared at the ring of Barahir, '_She is your heart's choice… Give her the ring, Aragorn; for it was always hers and never truly mine…_'

Clenching his fist around what had been their betrothal ring, Aragorn tried to contain the sheer rage that was building in him.

He had never been unaware of the many obstacles that lay in his and Arwen's path but he had never expected for her to be the one to sunder them!

He had loved her since his youth and only now did he find out that she did not feel the same, in all truth had never felt the same!

And then to even think of the words she had spoken about Buffy!

He had long owned that she was a dear and cherished friend but to think that he was in love with her! Had Arwen only been trying to soften the blow? He shook his head, he had never known Arwen to lie so blatantly, and even less was she wrong in matters of the heart.

To even think of it on the most basic level, the two women were polar opposites. Arwen was the dark seductive beauty of the night whereas Buffy was as golden as the sun.

And Arwen had said that Buffy was in love with him too.

His eyes narrowed, had Buffy been the real cause behind Arwen leaving him? Arwen counted Buffy as a dear friend, almost as a sister, and with her family's pressure for her to give him up, had the Elven lady given in at last?

As warming as that illusion was, it was simply an illusion.

Aragorn knew full well that nobody could out-stubborn any member of the House of Elrond, and he also knew he could not lay the blame for this at anybody's feet.

He could storm and rant and rave and it would make no difference. Arwen's choice was made and declared, final and forever, and she would not be swayed now.

He realised now that she had tried to provide for his future happiness by bringing Buffy into the conversation but he knew it could never have been anything more than wishful thinking on her part, Buffy had long ago rejected him, and treated him akin to a war-brother.

Just because he was thoroughly miserable, was no reason to inflict it on Elrond's halls, he decided to seek the solitude of his rooms that night, to think and ponder on the direction his life had newly taken.

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Elladan smiled wickedly at his younger brother, "I really do not see why ada (dad) despises this information gathering so much, it really is too easy!"

Elrohir snorted, "If Aragorn or Arwen had not been so busy with each other, and noticed us, I wager we would still be running."

"For news such as this!" Elladan exclaimed, "It would be worth it. Arwen is safe at last and our dear thel neth (little sister) has enlightened Aragorn about his feelings for our very own Dagnir (slayer)! I wager this should be fodder for some matchmaking now, without the shadow of Arwen's expected wrath. How do you think our dear Buffy shall handle this development?"

Elrohir snorted, "Buffy has never had to bother with a love-sick Aragorn before, and now she should have him chasing her around in ways she never expected. This could prove very entertaining, my brother."

"Indeed," the elder twin replied seriously, "Arwen is safe and for that I am glad, and now I shall make amends to Aragorn by trying to unite him with Buffy."

"I can safely say that shall be the plan for everyone involved in this mess." Elrohir said wryly. "Not to mention we can concentrate on some much needed revenge on those grubby little Dwarves!"

"Of course," Elladan said, "Dresses were just too much, and I daresay Legolas would not be disinclined towards some fun at the Dwarves' expense…"

Elrohir just smiled, "I am nearly looking forward to that as much as I long to see Buffy's reaction to Aragorn's new state of bachelorhood."

"It should be madness indeed…" Elladan said in a low voice, "But for now I think it is time to give Aragorn a little push in the right direction…"

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Aragorn's chambers, the Last Homely House, Rivendell. 3018 TA, October 30.

"Doors. People use doors." Aragorn said the moment he saw the twins come into his room through the window.

"But where is the fun in coming in the expected way?" Elladan replied.

Elrohir nudged him out of the way and went over to his ailing foster brother, "I am sorry, muindor (brother), but we know what passed between you and Undómiel (Evenstar) in the gardens this night."

"Then why are you not rejoicing?" Aragorn replied bitterly, pushing the younger twin away, "Arwen is safe from my bad influence, and your sister is forever returned to you. Was there need to gloat?"

"Pen neth (young one)," Elladan said softly, joining his brothers on the sofa, "We hurt because you hurt. Need we any other reason to come? But this is for the best, Estel (hope), and by Eru, Buffy has been waiting long enough."

Aragorn looked at them in puzzlement, surely what Arwen had said had been a mistake on her part?

"I know not what plot has been hatched between you, but there is nothing between me and Buffy!" Aragorn exclaimed angrily, "And I resent the implication that she had something to do with Arwen's decision!"

The twins' eyes met above Aragorn's bowed head and wordlessly came to an agreement.

"Calm down, pen neth," Elladan said soothingly, "We only wish to be a comfort to you this night, we know that Arwen has wounded your heart, but time heals all wounds. And 'tis better that you suffer this hurt now rather than both of you locking yourselves into a marriage where the love has long faded and the affection would then be soon to follow."

"Arwen spoke nothing but the truth this eve," Elrohir said, rubbing Aragorn's back as the human sat stiffly, jaw clenched with hurt and anger, "She has only been the last to notice that your heart was gifted elsewhere for the most part."

"How dare you say that?!" Aragorn cried, jerking away from his brother's touch, "I loved Arwen with every fibre of my being, and if things had cooled perhaps of late then it was because of the stress of the gathering shadow! I love her!"

"You are just determined to be stubborn, are you not?" Elrohir said wryly, looking askance at his foster brother, "'Tis not the time to act like a spoiled child who has been denied their treat, but to act as the King you were born to be. Just because Arwen has voiced her discontent and made her choice at last, with sincere regret as to the harm she inflicted on you, and you will not heed her good advice, then listen to this cold fact of mine. Your destiny is to be King of Men Aragorn, or fall in the attempt. If you should prevail, then a wife you must take. Shall you only marry for alliance simply because you refused to heed our sister's words, and actually look for the truth hidden in your heart?"

Elladan swiftly backed his gwenneth (younger twin) up, "You cannot hide from the truth forever, Aragorn, and you may blame anyone and anything you like, but it shall not change things save that you shall end up an embittered, miserable man who discarded his chance for happiness and contentment through sheer stubbornness. We can aid you no more, muindor nín, (my brother), your own heart and good sense must lead you to open your eyes. Give things a chance, Estel, I do not want to see you upset."

"Cuio vae!" (fare well) the twins said softly, and then departed from whence they came, leaving a newly sobered Aragorn to his heavy thoughts.

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Aragorn sat, lost in thoughts, long after his brothers had left and 'twas only with the growing rays of Anor that he roused himself from his contemplative state.

Time had cooled his temperament and soothed his anger and bruised feelings somewhat, and he at last felt ready to look at this whole situation somewhat objectively.

Arwen said that he loved Buffy. The twins said it too, and they seemed so sure as to have been privy to discussions on this matter before. He pushed aside his annoyance at his family discussing his love life and tried to concentrate on the things that he had to make certain for himself.

He knew that he valued Buffy as a exceptional and dear friend. They had been through too much together for him not to. But did he care for her beyond the bounds of friendship?

She was a truly magnificent person, unique in all his acquaintance, and possibly the most skilled warrior he had met.

He could also not deny that he had been attracted to her before. With all that fire and passion within her, who could not? She was such a woman that any man would be honoured to possess her affections.

But he had loved Arwen for so long and so deeply. How could he just disregard that in the space of a day just because the lady in question wished him to? Why should he have to push aside all that he felt because Arwen had delayed her dose of 'truth' for so long?

This was his life and he did not appreciate the multitude of people telling him how to live it!

All they wanted was a king on Gondor's ancient throne so that peace might be secured. None had ever bothered to ask if he has ever felt any desire for the chains of rule.

Marry, they said, marry and sire an heir. Was that all that they wanted from him? He thought furiously. Why should he have to constantly suffer from their lack of understanding about his own feelings? He had never wanted the task laid upon him.

And though Arwen had tried to understand, she had been born to royalty and knew not any other way. Legolas was much the same, save that he better understood the toll that constantly fighting the shadow took on a person.

But Buffy…

She had accepted his responsibilities and his destiny with her unique brand of flippancy, and had been a true and steadfast friend to him throughout all the years since they had met, able to commiserate with him over unfair callings.

He remembered his initial suspicions about her when she had been in Gondor with him, and he still remembered the feeling of desire that she had inspired in him then.

He had pushed those feelings away, had allowed no other woman to influence him since his troth with Undómiel (Evenstar), but mayhap it was time to see if they had ever been real, or a mischance of memory.

After all, if she really cared for him, then he at least owed her, owed them, a chance to see if there was any truth to Arwen's words after all..

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Ensconced in her own apartments, safe from the inquisitive stare of her father, Arwen sank back into her favourite well stuffed chair, relieved beyond measure that the hardest part of the night was over.

Making the break with Aragorn had been one of the hardest things she had been forced to do in her long existence. He had looked so hurt and lost that she had felt like an orc for hurting him so. But she had known that it had to be done and the longer she delayed it the worse it would have been for both of them.

But as much as she hated hurting Aragorn, she could not deny that she finally felt free for the first time in half a century.

Free to pursue the one she did want to bind herself to.

And since the person in question was quite conveniently in residence in the valley for the moment, she had her opportunity.

Arwen was not as openly devious as her brothers and father but she had more than her fair share of the Peredhel (half-Elven) propensity for trouble, and what she wanted, she normally got. Within limits of course.

And though she had been tethered to Aragorn for many decades, chance had made it so that her own eyes had been opened in more ways than one, and that she had found he who would be the one to make her happy.

Arwen knew from her own good sense, her own heart and a healthy dose of foresight, that this Elf was to be the one for her, her one true mate.

The only snag in the situation was that she did not know how the Elf in question felt.

Legolas was a reserved Elf by nature and by position, growing up in the forest of Mirkwood as the shadow's influence had spread had cautioned him on giving out information that an enemy could take advantage of.

She knew that he lost his reserve when amongst friends, but over the last few years, a wall had been built between them, and she knew not how to scale it. She wished that she knew its cause but it has eluded all her efforts to find it.

Legolas's demeanour towards her of late had been politely formal, but with none of the joy or care that had characterised their friendship for the past few centuries. It was enough to nearly make her weep, but she sternly told herself that she was the granddaughter of the Lady of the Wood, and that was a lady who did not allow mere obstacles to hinder her path to what she wanted.

She loved him, she knew, his claim on her heart was one that Aragorn had never managed, and so she knew that the love she bore for him was the real thing, not another illusion of circumstances, and she wanted at least a chance to see if her love was anyway returned.

Her heart had made its decision and she would now have no other than the one whose gentle ways and mercurial temperament had stealthily won her regard, then her affection, and finally, unbeknownst to her, her heart.

But to assure herself that she at least had a chance of breaking down the mysterious barrier between them, she needed the advantage of time, and her heart was glad and light as she settled on her choice, and the manner of it.

Crossing to her balcony, she sought out her grandfather's star in the sky, Eärendil, sailing forever in his ship holding the Silmaril aloft, and gazed intently at that star for awhile, knowing that he looked down upon her as she stood there, and basking in his approval for a choice well made.

"I, Arwen Undómiel, daughter of Elrond Peredhel and Celebrían," she began, intoning the words that would announce her choice to the Valar, "do hereby declare my choice as one of the children of Elrond to the Valar. I choose to belong to my Elven kindred, and I choose an immortal life. Do you accept this?"

Eärendil's star winked once in a violent flash of light, and Arwen's face lit up in a smile. Her choice had been accepted and acknowledged, and as the light of her grandfather's star bathed her in its glow, she felt the mortal part of her being shorn away and her immortal flame revitalized.

She was now gifted with the full life of the Eldar, her choice declared and accepted, and she would sail West and see her mother again, their family would not be sundered because of her.

Now all she had to do was figure out how to subtly enlighten a certain Elven Prince on her newfound eligibility and her interest in him.

For all her gifts, Arwen got the sinking feeling that that would take longer than she thought, and more time than she had before Legolas left for Mordor.

What was that saying that Buffy had told her? 'All's fair in love and war' she had said. Arwen was now in the middle of both, and it seemed such an apt phrase to use.

She could only hope that she would not shock Greenleaf too badly…

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"Convictions are more dangerous enemies of truth than lies."

- Nietzsche

The day after his bachelorhood was restored to him, Aragorn found himself summoned to Elrond's study, and he could only dread what the Elvenlord was bound to want to talk to him about.

Entering into the room with all the enthusiasm of a man heading for the hangman's noose, Aragorn trudged inside and sat in the chair that Elrond indicated.

He could feel those knowing grey eyes on him, and the slight smile that graced Elrond's normally sombre features told the ranger all that he needed to know. There was no way in Arda that the Elvenlord did not know what had happened by now.

"I take it that you know why I have called you here?" the Elvenlord said.

Aragorn nodded sullenly, "To gloat, I presume," he said darkly, "You have got your fondest wish."

"Aragorn," Elrond said softly, "I do not gloat at your pain, but you cannot ask me to lie about my happiness that my daughter shall not die a mortal death and so be lost to me forever. But you are not without hope Estel."

"You are too right," Aragorn said sarcastically, "I am sure that my latest venture into certain death shall be made all the better by this… this… betrayal of trust that your fair daughter so cheerfully dispensed to me yestereve."

"You cannot blame Arwen for this Estel!" Elrond exclaimed, shaking his head at his foster son's typical pigheadedness, "She did this for the good of you both. Surely you did not expect her to stay when the love that held her there faded? Are you to be so stubborn as to deny yourself all chance of happiness just to spite us?"

"What happiness, _adar_?" (father) Aragorn sneered, placing deliberate emphasis on the title he had once bestowed so willingly upon the Elda when he had simply been Estel, and not Aragorn. "What happiness could I possibly have when those who I thought were family are plotting against me?"

Elrond flinched at his foster son's tone, "Estel, please," he pleaded, "Do not be like this. None of has ever wished to hurt you!"

"But you did!" Aragorn cried, "And am I supposed to forgive you because you did not do it 'intentionally'?! I feel like I do not know you anymore!"

Even to the ranger's rage clouded eyes, the Elvenlord looked suddenly weary, as if the weight of ages had finally fallen upon him, but he could not heed any of his concern and instead gave way to his pain.

Elrond held out a hand beseechingly, "Please, ion nín, (my son), I never wished to hurt you. Arwen came to this choice by herself. Do not blame me for trying to assure you some happiness in the future!"

"Oh, let me guess," Aragorn said, "By now, Elladan and Elrohir have told you about Arwen's suspicions, and you, in all your wisdom, have decided to play along and ruin yet another friendship for me!"

Elrond could not deny some of that, "If you speak of Buffy, then yes, the gwenyn (twins) have told me what passed between you. They said they saw you when you were Thorongil and Eliza of Gondor. She is a fine woman Aragorn, you could not do better…"

Aragorn's eyes narrowed into slits of angry grey fire, "So you have spied on me for that long?" he hissed, "I had thought you above such tactics, Lord Elrond, and I can scarcely believe that you have the sheer temerity and audacity to address me as your son when you have conspired to ruin my life!"

"Aragorn!" Elrond cried in dismay, "I did not…"

Aragorn did not allow him a chance to defend himself against the charges laid against him, "I care not for your platitudes or pitiful attempts at explanations. I have had enough, my lord, I am sick of your machinations. From this moment, consider us not on speaking terms. I shall go to Mordor, and if I survive I might decide whether I ever wish to see you again!"

The man who would be king turned on his heels and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, leaving a subdued Elvenlord in his wake.

While Elrond was delighted that his daughter had chosen an immortal life, and to his and Thranduil's joy, seemed to harbour some affection for Legolas of Mirkwood, he had paid a heavy price indeed for assuring his daughter's contentment.

It seemed that in gaining Arwen, he had lost Aragorn…

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Later that day, Elrond called the family in to discuss the disastrous argument with Aragorn, and they were all much subdued by the end of his tale.

"I had no idea that I had hurt him so grievously," Arwen said guiltily, her head bowed in grief and shame.

Elrond was quick to reassure her, "Aragorn does not lay all the blame at your door, iel nín, (my daughter) but he is hurting now and denying himself the very thing that could succour him."

"That is our brother," Elladan drawled, "He is more stubborn than an entire herd of mules. I wonder if Buffy knows exactly what she is getting herself into."

"Buffy as of yet knows nothing, Elladan," Elrond warned, "And she shall not hear it from you two."

"We are not announcing the dissolving of our engagement publicly yet," Arwen said, "Aragorn's hurt is too fresh, and I do not wish to push him into doing something drastic."

"So we let him plod along to Buffy at his own pace?" Elladan asked, "The poor slayer will be ancient before he realises anything."

"You do your brother no credit," Elrond admonished, "But some aid might be needed, but I think none of us shall be the ones to provide it. We cannot lose any more of his trust, lest the damage become irreparable."

"But what then are we to do?" Elrohir asked, looking at his father.

"We can do nothing but watch and wait and hope that their hearts shall prevail, and that he shall come back to us," Elrond said heavily, "Aragorn will not suffer our interference now and I cannot bring myself to injure him further."

"Then we must let fate take its course," Arwen said softly, "And hope to Eru that they make the right choices."

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Buffy wasn't exactly the world's biggest fan of gossip, but she acknowledged that it did have its uses and it had certainly been helpful when the grapevine got around to her that morning.

With an expression that advertised someone's imminent death, she stormed through the halls of the Last Homely House, and even Arwen's attempts to stop her only earned her a "Sorry but I've got to go deal with an imbecile."

Reaching Erestor's office, she waited until the counsellor noticed her and then demanded to know where a certain someone was. "What's Aragorn's schedule for today? Where would I find him if I wanted to kill him?"

"Why would you want to do that?" Erestor asked in puzzlement. "Do you not wish to talk to him first?"

"No, I'm rather interested in killing him though." Buffy said snarkily, "And speed it up mister before I get the impression that you're covering for him."

"Well, Buffy, as he is technically a guest of the valley, I cannot help you kill him," Erestor said apologetically.

Buffy growled in such a manner as to inspire fear in Erestor's heart, "I swear, men can be such jerks sometimes, dead or alive." she groused, "I am so gonna remember this Erestor!" she called as she left.

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At the other side of the house, Arwen had taken it upon herself at Erestor's charge to warn Aragorn of his impending doom, and to start the process of him getting used to seeing her in another light.

Aragorn was studying the effects of Morgul poison in the library when a head popped in to the room, "Aragorn, Buffy is on the warpath," Arwen said quite cheerfully, striving to sound as normal as possible, "Elladan and Elrohir are trying to hold her off so you have got about two minutes before she gets here. I would suggest running. I have already heard what you did. And I doubt even valiant Glorfindel will stand in her path."

The ranger clamped down on the searing pain that came from seeing Arwen's face again, and replied scathingly, arching an eyebrow and saying, "Valiant Glorfindel?" he repeated. "You did not see him go chasing the twins all over Imladris, screaming 'My hair! My hair!' last week."

"I did not, but I would wager that it would only make him the more capable of killing something," Arwen replied, "Go easy on Buffy, Aragorn, she has a right to be mad after what you did."

"It is none of your business what I do anymore, my lady," Aragorn said tightly, "After all you have no claim on me, so what I do is none of your concern. Leave lady."

The Evenstar hesitated, "Still…" she said, "She could get hurt. I trust that will not happen intentionally? That you will not take my words and actions out on her?"

"What are you, her sister?" Aragorn said derisively, "Leave me alone, Lady."

"Apparently." Arwen replied, "And just as apparent is that you seem determined to ruin every good thing in your life. Move on Aragorn. Do not wallow in your pain."

"Just go Arwen!" Aragorn exclaimed, jaw and fists clenched in anger, "I have had enough of your 'wisdom' to last a lifetime!"

The lady looked at him sadly but left, and scarcely was she gone when Buffy stormed into the room. "We need to talk mister," she all but snarled.

"I have to finish this." Aragorn protested, not looking forward to this conversation.

"Fine. Stall all you want." Buffy replied, "But I'm not leaving until we have a little chat. Very little, considering the pummelling that needs to occur."

She made to move forward as if to forcibly haul the ranger up but was stalled in mid-movement.

She shrieked in rage as strong arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her off the ground, "I do not think so tithen dagnir (little slayer). I need Aragorn in one piece for the scouting tomorrow." Elladan said, as he struggled to hold her.

"Traitor," she pouted.

"Wise one," Elladan retorted, "Now play fair, or I will have to break this up."

"Fine," Buffy said, breaking out of his grip and crossing over to get into Aragorn's face, "You owe me one heck of an explanation mister," she hissed, poking her finger into Aragorn's chest, "What were you thinking? Were you thinking?! You cannot just remove me from the Fellowship because you feel like it Aragorn! Well? I'm waiting…" she cried.

"It is complicated…" Aragorn began.

"You know, I hate that word." Buffy said, "And wasting my time is only gonna make me hurt you more so get on with it."

"I could not in all conscience allow you to go into Mordor," Aragorn said with conviction, "You have already been twice afflicted with Morgul poison and I know the Ring calls you."

Buffy's eyes widened as he mentioned that, as she had thought that only she herself knew about her reaction to the Ring, but apparently Aragorn had been more perceptive than she thought. "Ooo wow you're a sweet talker." she said, covering up her discomfort with bravado, "Still doesn't give me a reason not to hit you. You're gonna have to come up with something better than that!"

Aragorn growled himself in utmost frustration, and this was the woman his family claimed he was in love with! "Must you be so… so aggravating! Ai! You torment me!"

"You torment yourself!" Buffy snapped right back, "I thought we had covered this topic before but apparently it still hasn't sunk into your thick skull! I don't need your protection! And what's more, I don't want it!"

Aragorn had to hide the unexplained hurt he felt at her words and instead shot back with his own scathing rejoinder, "Well, perhaps if you could stay out of trouble even for a day, I might be more inclined to support your bid to go!" he cried, "But you still treat hunting orcs as a sport!"

Buffy's pride took a beating at that, and she responded with more anger, "If that's the best you've got, I'm just gonna have to kill you." she growled, moving forward.

Elladan decided the time was ripe to step in before the argument became a brawl, "Break it up, both of you," he said, "Or would you have Frodo be accompanied by two who cannot even stand the sight of each other? I would guess that he has enough of that in the others already!"

"Appealing to my conscience. Such a low blow." Buffy said, but stepped back, "This isn't over you know," she warned.

"I do not doubt it," Aragorn said, "But I still say Mordor is no place for you."

"I should be at your side. That's all I'm saying." Buffy replied, as Elladan led her out of the room, leaving Aragorn to ponder upon her words in more ways than one.

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The hobbits had been nearly two months in the House of Elrond, and November had gone by with the last shreds of autumn, and December was passing, when the scouts began to return. Some had gone north beyond the springs of the Hoarwell into the Ettenmoors; and others had gone west, and with the help of the rangers had searched the lands far down the Greyflood, as far as Tharbad, where the old North road crossed the river by a ruined town. Many had gone east and south; and some of these had crossed the mountains and entered Mirkwood, including Legolas Greenleaf and Aragorn, while others, led by Glorfindel, had climbed the pass at the source of the Gladden river, and had come down into Wilderland and over the Gladden Fields and so at length reached the old home of Radagast at Rohosgobel. Radagast was not there, and they returned over the high pass that was called the Dimrill Stair.

The sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir, accompanied by Buffy Dagnir, were the last to return; they had made a great journey, passing down the Silverlode into a strange country, but of their errand they would not speak to any save Elrond.

In no region had the messengers discovered any signs or tidings of the Riders or other servants of the Enemy. Even from the Eagles of the Misty Mountains they had learned no fresh news. Nothing had been seen or heard of Gollum; but the wild wolves were still gathering, and were hunting again far up the Great River. Three of the black horses had been found at once drowned in the flooded Ford. On the rocks of the rapids below it, searchers discovered the bodies of five more, and also a long black cloak, slashed and tattered. Of the Black Riders no other trace was to be seen, and nowhere was their presence to be felt. It seemed that they had vanished from the North.

To discover the movements of the Enemy, ere the Fellowship set out, Elrond sent out many scouting groups to roam the wilds and report back what they found.

Buffy was to go with Elladan and Elrohir on the most secret and thereby most dangerous of the missions, and their purpose was only known to four people, - the three scouts and Elrond.

They were to track down the shapeless wraiths and hinder their return to Mordor as best they could and so their purpose was spoken to nobody, not even their dearest friends.

Buffy gave Arwen one last hug and then made her goodbyes, "I gotta jet. Bad guys to terrify, nasties to kill and all that jazz." she said as she mounted her horse, Mîr and followed the twins out.

"Fare ye well, Buffy," Arwen said, "May the blessings of the Elves go with you!"

The twins and Buffy's group was the first to depart, as they had the greatest ground to cover and so Buffy out of pique did not bother to hunt down Aragorn to say goodbye. She had had enough of his foul mood for the last while, and so wished to avoid him.

Aragorn and Legolas were to go to Mirkwood, whereas Glorfindel, Boromir and the Dwarves were to scout the wilds, much to the man of Gondor's disgust. The more time that Boromir spent in Rivendell, the more he was assured that the man who would challenge his right to the rule of Gondor was absolutely crazy.

Boromir looked on in a state of disbelief as his future king, (though he was loath to admit even in his thoughts) and the Crown Prince of Mirkwood managed to start a slightly more dignified version of the 'did not, did too' arguments that children were ever so fond of.

And these were two who would someday be kings! May Eru save them if they ever took their respective thrones! Boromir thought with no little disgust.

But even though the various groups seemed primed for disaster, Elrond sent them out without qualms, and their tales are not told here.

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It is impossible to please all the world and also one's father.

– Jean de La Fontaine.

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The royal palace, Mirkwood, 3018 TA, November.

After Legolas, standing in front of Aragorn, had recounted the tale that led to his place in the fellowship bound for Mordor to destroy the One Ring, Thranduil Oropherion (son of Oropher) just stared at his plainly uncomfortable son.

"Legolas, for clarity's sake let me recount this, you are going to Mordor, where your grandfather was killed, to attempt to destroy the One Ring, which even the Last Alliance did not manage? And you are doing this with a grubby Dwarf, two men, one meddling wizard, four annoying hobbits and Buffy?"

Legolas winced at his sharp tone, "Aye, father, 'tis much as you said it."

Thranduil rubbed his forehead in an attempt to dispel the gathering headache he felt coming on, "Legolas, we shall discuss this later, in private," he said, causing his son to blanch and then he turned his attention to the ranger, "Galion shall show you to your rooms," he said. Aragorn, recognising a dismissal when he heard one, followed the Elf out of the room, leaving Thranduil and Legolas alone.

Thranduil just looked at his son, conflicting feelings clashing against one another, "Go get cleaned up, my Greenleaf, I shall come to your rooms later, and we shall eat together."

"As you wish, adar," Legolas said and left, leaving Thranduil to his thoughts.

The rational part of Thranduil knew that he was completely overreacting. But then again when had being rational ever been a major agenda in Thranduil's life? Being able to do what he liked was much more amusing than being all stately and serene like Celeborn and Galadriel. And considering the state of Mirkwood's many, many enemies and would be attackers/invaders, not being able to scream and yell and vent by killing lots of orcs and spiders because he was trying to be _serene_ of all things, would end up with him quickly going insane. Especially since his father had sworn that Thranduil would _never_ ever learn the value of patience and as a child, Thranduil had not exactly been known for his calmness.

So even though logically, he _knew_ that his sweet, adorable child was more likely to make mincemeat out of anything that attacked him or chose to be rude rather than be the mincemeat, he still felt the slightly insane urge to make sure that nothing with any sort of claws, weapons, unfriendly temper or dubious intentions came near his son.

Even though said son was undoubtedly one of the best Elven warriors in Middle Earth, Thranduil could not help but remember the blonde toddler that had tottered about the palace instead of the lethal fighter he had now. So naturally, Legolas had to be protected from his own folly.

Especially since Legolas too often disregarded his own importance to the realm, which had only increased since his beloved Yávien's death.

While Legolas had been too young to remember the brutal circumstances surrounding his mother's death, Thranduil remembered all too well what had happened to his wife and the reasons behind it.

Yávien had been brutally killed by orcs who had recognised her as Thranduil's Queen. After they had had their fill of torturing her, they had dumped her body back in the forest for the Elven patrols to find and Thranduil had been overwhelmingly furious and grief-stricken. Since that fateful day, Thranduil had been extremely protective when it came to his only child. If the monsters in Dol Guldur had killed Yávien because she was his wife, they would have even more incentive to try and drive Thranduil to extremes by killing his only child and heir. Legolas understood most of this, which was why he tolerated his father's whims to a limited extent with some grace.

But there were times when Legolas's sense of honour and duty overrode his concern over his father's fears, and he committed himself to some wildly dangerous task in an obviously unacknowledged effort to give Thranduil a heart attack like the mortals experienced.

He could not allow his son to throw his life away to Mordor like his own father had done at the end of the Second Age.

There was no way Thranduil was going to willingly let Legolas go on some foolish quest to Mount Doom. Even if he had to use his authority as King and _order_ Legolas to remain in Mirkwood, an act which would most likely have Legolas refusing to speak to him for the next century.

At least he would be alive.

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Unfortunately, convincing Legolas of this decision was no easy task.

His son was far too inclined to argue back, a feat which even Elrond and Galadriel admired.

"I will not do it ada!" Legolas exclaimed, unable to believe that his father was even asking this of him, "I will not go back on my word! And you cannot make me!"

"Legolas, do not make me tie to the chair! I swear, if I have to keep you drugged until the Fellowship is well under way I will do it. No son of mine is going to get killed in Mordor!"

"Idle threats are hardly going to win this argument, ada," Legolas said, dismissing Thranduil's words, "I am truly sorry for the pain that I am causing you, but I will not go back on my word to Frodo."

"Legolas, I just do not want you to die!" Thranduil said beseechingly, "Mithrandir always has his own agenda, and the only other competent one is Buffy, who will undoubtedly be busy trying to keep that heir of Isildur in the world of the living."

"Ada, please," Legolas said pleadingly, crossing over to lean against the windowsill, "Even if you do not trust them, trust in me. I swear that I shall not die if I can help it, I do not make foolish mistakes adar. But I must see this through, else Mirkwood and the rest of Middle Earth will fall, and I cannot abide that."

Thranduil was silent for many minutes, looking at his son, the lithe frame tense, shoulders slumped, fair hair making a curtain to shield his face.

And though he regretted what he had to do to keep him safe, he knew that he could not live with himself if he did not at least try.

Coming up behind Legolas, he placed a hand on his tense shoulder, sighed and began to speak, "I had hoped that it would not come to this, that you would listen to reason. That cursed land has already claimed my father as its prize and my mother followed him in death shortly after. The grief was too much for her. I cannot allow that to happen to you my son."

"Father, you know I am a proven warrior. I would not fall so easily." Legolas protested softly, his voice earnest.

Thranduil shook his head, "Mirkwood cannot take the chance ion nín, (my son) _I_ cannot take the chance."

Legolas made as if to turn around but Thranduil's iron grip on his shoulder prevented it, "Father? What do you mean?" he said, his voice confused.

With a move as swift as the wind, Thranduil pulled a dripping cloth out of his pocket with one hand while the other laced around Legolas's torso, yanking him back against Thranduil's chest. Legolas was too stunned and confused to react in time. What did he have to fear from his _father_ after all?

Clamping the cloth over Legolas's nose and mouth, Thranduil clamped down on his feelings of pity for his son's plight and tightened his grip on the lithe form in front of him as Legolas finally realised his intention and began to struggle.

Gradually his struggles began to weaken and after a minute or two, Legolas went utterly limp. Thranduil carefully altered his grip to support his son's unconscious form, checking to make sure that Legolas's eyes were glazed over in a forced sleep. Legolas was too cunning to do otherwise. He really wished that his hand had not been forced thus but he knew his son and knew that once he was set on a course, the Valar themselves couldn't sway them.

Gently gathering Legolas into his arms, he carried him over to the bed and tucked him in. He was not looking forward to Legolas's reaction upon awakening. He imagined the palace – and half of Mirkwood – would be able to hear _that_ argument.

Soundlessly, slipping out the door he set off to find the captain of his guard. The sleeping draught would wear off in twelve hours and he wanted to have everything in place by then.

Mordor would not claim another member of his family…

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A/N: Well? Opinions please! Please READ and REVIEW!!!!

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Next chapter: We see if Legolas's problems in Mirkwood can be resolved… the scouts return.. The second phase of the war begins… Elrond blows up… and the Fellowship leave Rivendell….

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Elvish:

Ada - dad

Thel neth - little sister

Dagnir - slayer

Muindor - brother

Undómiel - Evenstar

Pen neth - young one

Estel - hope

Gwenneth - younger twin

Muindor nín - my brother

Cuio vae - fare well

Peredhel - half-Elven

Adar - father

Ion nín - my son

Gwenyn - twins

Iel nín - my daughter

Tithen dagnir - little slayer

Mîr - Jewel

Oropherion - son of Oropher

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Eärendil - Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth.

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Galion - the King's butler. Appeared in 'The Hobbit'.

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Oropher - King of Greenwood (now known as Mirkwood) in the Second Age. Was killed during the Last Alliance when he refused to follow Gil-galad's lead in the Last Alliance of Elves and Men and he led a charge too soon, losing two thirds of his army and dying himself. Generally thought to be cantankerous. He was the father of Thranduil.

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Yávien - The name of Legolas's mother and Thranduil's queen. in this story. (fictional of course). Translates to 'Autumn'. She was slaughtered by orcs who recognised her as Thranduil's Queen, and her body was dumped back in the forest for the Elven patrols to find, as a message and a warning for Thranduil.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	26. Every Which Way But Loose

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Ok, let's remember people. Thranduil is _not _evil! He wants to save his son - a noble goal, but really sneaky way of doing it. But then again, this is the King who locked up a group of Dwarves because they wouldn't tell him where they were going _AND _ marched his army to the Lonely Mountain to snatch the treasure off of them. Thranduil. Is. Sneaky. Beware.

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Review responses:

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Aleviel - yes, Boromir's fate has been decided with weeks. And yes, Boromir will mellow over time.

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Anna - yes, Legolas - not pleased. And Aragorn is at the moment wilfully denying everything.

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Darkseed - lost where?

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Dragonsdaughter1 - thanks! And I honestly don't have a clue?

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DragonStar - Well, since it is cleared up in this chapter, I'll tell you. Of course, it's just a plot twist. I can hardly leave the dear Elf out now, can I? Yes, Boromir needs to learn humour if he wants to survive the first week of the Fellowship.

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emerald sorceress - Of course, he's underestimating Legolas! Legolas - not an Elf to underestimate, as Thranduil will find out. And Aragorn is being overly protective and trying to keep Buffy as far away from his as possible for his own sanity. But yes, the poor Fellowship is getting picked off one by one, isn't it?

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FallenStar2 - Aragorn aims to confuse. And yes, he still denies why he's way overprotective of Buffy! And Thranduil is wrong but for the right reasons. Yes, Arwen and Legolas have their own road ahead of them. But if he did stay behind with Arwen, I have no doubt he'd be a lot easier for Thranduil to find and cart home. And I LOVE long reviews!

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Goldenshadows - you did it again! You realise you're only spurring me on, right? And Aragorn tends to come round, eventually anyway. How long is this fic going to be? Last count it was fifty chapters, and I'm not going to split it into three parts. It's only a hassle for readers, and for me.

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Haley - Legolas's temper is unfortunately going to fall mostly on the Dwarves. Yes, he will catch up, all explained in this chapter. And sorry, I don't really have a spare brick.

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Imp17 - do you now? How many?

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Lady Alathon - Thranduil is rather desperate I'm afraid.

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Lady of the Wood - yes, she gets to go. All in this chapter. When will Aragorn open his eyes? Watch this space.

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LadyWolfBane - yes, Aragorn will eventually learn more of Buffy's past.

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Liit06 - it was there. Try adding a forwards slash and a '?' if the site tries to eat a chapter.

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Lunawolf - definite alert! Yes, she'll go with or without his consent.

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Mari - yep, he's making with the mad. And the devious. And this is Thranduil, to him they _are_ the only two competent ones in the group as Legolas is obviously not going! It's his mindset, not the general opinion. No, Aragorn will not drug Buffy. She would probably toss him down Mount Doom, or drown him in the Bruinen, if he dared. And about the B/A cuddling, that would be telling!

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Moonbunny77 - Arwen to the rescue? Sadly, no.

organized-chaos - you hit the nail on the head there. I'm evil, which means angst and drama. And you still haven't solved the problem of getting the 40 pound salmon.

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Pamie884 - yes, Thranduil bad seems to be the general consensus. Yes, Aragorn and Buffy will end up together. Eventually.

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restive nature - thanks! And it's a pity you forgot! Yes, Aragorn is quite content to be a jackass at the moment! And yes, he's more than a little self-absorbed as he deals with his pain. And yes, Buffy will eventually reveal some of the more painful aspects of her past to Aragorn, but that will be a while off yet.

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Roswell428 - don't worry. He will eventually.

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Sabia - thanks! Yeah, the dates can get confusing for me too but I usually go off the timeline in the back of the 3-in-1 version of the LotR book for them. Arwen and Legolas was kind of a side plot, as they were both mostly clueless, that is now coming into its own and about to pick up momentum.

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Star - the Fellowship gets underway in this chapter! And there will be plenty more Boromir.

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Tiamante Salazar Tameran - they'll get to that eventually!

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Wild320 - interesting analysis.

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And major thanks to:

BuffyandDracoLover, Draco's Slytherin Vampiress, egastin77, feyechelon, gaul1, Little Red Rabbit, ms8309, Night-Owl123,

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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: EVERY WHICH WAY BUT LOOSE

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Guest wing, the royal palace, Mirkwood, 3018 TA, November.

Aragorn was most unceremoniously woke in the dead of night by two Elves who did not even wait for his eyes to crack open ere they hauled him up and out of his warm bed and started dragging him out of the room.

Struggling at this rough handling, Aragorn's bid to fight himself free came to an abrupt halt when he saw King Thranduil standing in the hallway, looking very upset.

"Your majesty!" Aragorn exclaimed, "What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded angrily.

The King's face was grave as he answered, "Legolas shall not be going with your thrice damned fellowship," he said, "By order of his king."

Aragorn did not bother to wait for more, "Legolas would never agree to that!" he cried, "Let me speak to him now!"

"You will not be speaking to him again, Dúnadan," Thranduil said sternly, eyes menacing as he protected his child even from his own friends, "I am sick of your bad influence. Mordor may have claimed my father, but by Eru, it shall not claim my son!"

"Legolas chose to go because it was the right thing to do and because he wanted to!" Aragorn defended, "Not because of me!"

"He chose to follow because of _you_," Thranduil said with no little emotion, "Ever since he met you he has been too eager to befriend mortals, heedless of the grief their deaths will cause him in the future. He has followed you on errands of folly because of his regard for you, and I have tolerated this to a certain extent, not wanting to cage my Greenleaf, but the time for your influence is over. You may be over eager to die, son of Arathorn, but you shall not drag him with you. The line of Isildur has already caused enough pain for my house!"

Aragorn flinched at the words, so reminiscent of how Elrond had spoken to him of Arwen before, but he refused to be cowed by Thranduil, "This is Legolas's decision, not yours. And you fail to convince me that Legolas meekly submitted to your will in this!"

Thranduil's left eye twitched almost imperceptibly, but then Aragorn's foresight came upon him and he knew what had passed. "By Eru, you did not lock him up!" he exclaimed in dismay.

"'Tis only a necessary precaution 'til you are gone from these woods," Thranduil said, "'Tis better that he is angered than dead."

"You know better than I that Legolas hates to be caged anywhere!" Aragorn said angrily, "And yet you doom him to that fate by refusing to let him go! You know he is smarter than that. Even you cannot hold him for long!"

"You are much mistaken, ranger," Thranduil said menacingly, "I am King here, and I can override anything my son tries. I know him well, he shall not escape me. But I am afraid that you shall not be allowed to help him either. I will not throw you out of my woods in the deep of night, so I shall allow you to stay until morn. Unfortunately though, your quarters must be moved. Enjoy the dungeons, Dúnadan. You may as well get used to them as I have no doubt that Sauron would much enjoy having you as his guest when you cross his borders."

And with that, the King walked away, leaving a viciously struggling Aragorn to be dragged down to the lower levels.

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Legolas's chambers, the royal palace, Mirkwood, 3018 TA, November.

As a consequence of Thranduil _not_ being very pleased that Legolas was going with the Fellowship, to put it mildly, the Elvenking had pulled out all the stops to keep his only child safe.

So all of Mirkwood's guard were under orders to make sure that the Prince remained in his room in the palace, which meant guards outside his windows and doors and considering his son's cunning, guards trailing him to make sure he stayed put and to make sure Aragorn or anybody did not help him. Needless to say, Legolas was _not_ pleased about this and his temper, when roused, was _not_ something a person wanted to see let alone be on the receiving end of it.

And that was only reaffirmed when Thranduil met with Legolas for the first time since he had resorted to desperate measures to prevent Legolas leaving.

Thranduil had been informed that Legolas was awake and livid, and had already made good progress in accumulating a series of relentless and clever escape efforts.

Stepping into the room, making sure the guards locked the door behind him, Thranduil had to duck as a thick book was flung his way. "Legolas! Stop that!" Thranduil chastised his errant child. "Why are you throwing books?" he asked.

"Because ornaments get glass and pottery all over the place." Legolas snarled, "You had no right, adar! (father) None at all! How could you?!"

"It was all for your benefit!" Thranduil countered, trying to calm his absolutely furious son down.

"You drugged me and then locked me in my room, did you not? How is that to my 'benefit'?" Legolas hissed, silver-blue eyes burning into his father's.

"Just for your own protection!" Thranduil said, "Do you not see that I would not survive losing you?!"

"It was my choice adar! Mine! And you took it away from me like I was an elfling!" Legolas yelled, hardly able to look at his father so great was his anger.

"You are the Crown Prince, Legolas," Thranduil said with forced calm, "The only heir to Mirkwood. And the times grow darker. Who knows what shall assail this realm ere all is over? You cannot be spared ion nín, (my son), even if I endorsed this folly of Elrond's, I could not spare you. We must look to our own realm's safety ere we charge blindly into Mordor!"

"You see things in black and white, adar," Legolas said tightly, "If this quest does not succeed, then Sauron shall cover all the lands in a second darkness, this forest included. This quest is to assure the safety of all of Middle Earth! And no matter what the Elves of the Wood do, we shall not be able to stand against all the armies of Dol Guldur, Orthanc and Mordor! It is folly even to think of it! Do you not think that Lord Elrond has considered these points? That this is the _only_ way! And you are blinded to it!"

"If worst comes to worst, then we shall sail West," Thranduil said, "But for a party of ten to march into Mordor with the intention of destroying the Dark Lord, now _that_ is the height of folly and ignorance!"

"You wilfully misunderstand me adar, I am not asking permission to go! I _am _going! And none of these absolutely absurd actions are going to hinder me!"

Thranduil would not back down, "Now, you have a choice, son. We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard--"

But Legolas in a very insolent mood cut him off, "What were my choices again? Because I do not believe you intend on giving me any! You cannot command me like some sort of slave!"

Thranduil ignored his son's attempts to push him away and enfolded his Greenleaf in his arms. "Hush," he said softly, "This pains me even more than it does you, ion nín, but I love you, and it is a parent's duty to protect their children, whatever their age."

As Thranduil used his own gifts to soothe him, Legolas felt himself calming down and his anger dissipating. No, he could not say that Thranduil's arguments did not have some merit; he knew full well what the chains of duty were for a prince.

But he could also not in any good conscience go back on his word to Frodo, and though he wanted desperately to escape from his father's loving chains to Imladris, he was very familiar with his father's cunning, - and the skill of the royal guards.

If his father commanded them to ensure he stayed, then stay he would, if they had to tie him hand and foot and cart him back to the palace.

As Thranduil rejoiced in the first signs of strained, weary acceptance in his son, Legolas tried to figure out a way to get him out of this mess, but to no avail. For a moment his thoughts lighted on Aragorn and a hope was born in his heart, one that he was careful to conceal from his adar.

On Thranduil's side, the Elvenking had not earned such a fearsome reputation for nothing, and he knew full well what direction his child's thoughts were taken, and was ever so glad that Aragorn was currently experiencing the comforts of the dungeons. Elrond would not be pleased, but then again, he often was not when he dealt with Thranduil, and he was sure that Aragorn had slept in many places less comfortable over the years, Cirith Ungol being no exception.

And he had his own plans in reserve to ensure that Legolas did not outsmart him…

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The dungeons, the lower levels of the royal palace, Mirkwood, 3018 TA, November.

To say that Aragorn was displeased with his current accommodation would be a massive understatement.

While he had suffered through many things for the sake of friendship and duty, he could not remember ever visiting Thranduil's dungeons before.

Admittedly he was given all comfort possible, but he did not particularly appreciate the iron bars that were on the heavy wooden, steel reinforced door that prevented him from going wherever he so wished.

He honestly did not know what Thranduil was thinking, as Aragorn had less chance of escaping from the forest unguarded than Legolas had of escaping from a thoroughly guarded room. If anything, Legolas should be the one in the dungeons, by sheer principal stemming from his tutelage in the mischief making arts by the infamous sons of Elrond.

He was halfway asleep when he a voice resounded through his mind, snapping him back to alertness with all the effectiveness of an ice cold bucket of water.

'_Aragorn? Are you well_?' Legolas mind-spoke to the ranger.

Aragorn just wished his friend had been there to glare at, '_Legolas_?' he replied, '_You never told me you could mind-speak!_''

Aragorn swore that he could almost_ hear_ the smirk Legolas was undoubtedly wearing, '_There are a lot of things you do not know about me Dúnadan, this was just one. Now, are you alright? What has my adar done with you?_''

'_Your adar has decided that the dungeons are the perfect remedy for my 'bad influence''_, Aragorn replied wryly. '_Dare I ask where he has put his own little terror?_'#'

'_Under watch, guard, lock and key_,' Legolas replied, '_I cannot get out. And it is not from lack of attempts. Can you aid me at all or are you as trapped as me?_''

'_Well, as I have yet to develop the ability to knock down one foot thick doors_,' Aragorn answered sarcastically, '_I would imagine that I am stuck here too._'

Legolas was silent for a moment, '_We must get back to Imladris_,' he said, '_Adar will probably send you back there readily but I will not go back on my word nor will I hide in this palace while the battles for Middle Earth take place._'

'_Battles_?' Aragorn replied, '_Are you truly expecting battles? Because this mission is to be carried out with the utmost stealth and secrecy and therefore, wading into the war shall not be an option_.'

'_Things never go as they are supposed to,_' Legolas answered sagely, '_And if we make it to Mordor without one battle I shall greatly be surprised_.'

'_As amusing as these speculations are, we are still no closer to freedom from your father than before._' Aragorn pointed out.

'_I have no less than six guards outside my chambers, and even I am wary of such a number, but I might be more amenable to six against two._'

'_In case it has escaped your attention, I am currently locked in the dungeons with no visible way out. And as I cannot walk through walls, I am unable to help you out, mellon nín.' _(my friend) Aragorn replied.

'_I can get you out Estel,' _Legolas said, '_There are secret passages in the dungeons, made for the aid of the guards_.'

Aragorn's sullen face broke out in a wide smile, "_I'm listening meldiren….._' (my friend)

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It took him three hours but at last Aragorn had broken out of those cursed lower levels into the palace proper.

The passage had been cramped, damp and dark; all personal favourites of Aragorn's but he had persevered.

Unfortunately, now it had come to a dilemma over how to get rid of Legolas's guards.

Mirkwood Elves were generally known to be 'more dangerous and less wise' than the Eldar, and that was amply demonstrated in the two frightful examples that were Thranduil and Legolas.

But even the general populace of Taur-e-Nelaedelos were dangerous to a fault. They much preferred the 'shoot first, interrogate later' policy as Buffy had once so aptly put it. The standing army of the Wood was lethal, deadly, extremely stealthy and too cunning by half. And that was just the ordinary soldiers, used to dealing with the spiders and other monsters that had plagued the forest since Dol Guldur had been built on Amon Lanc.

But Thranduil's elite royal guards were something else, and even more so the ones assigned to Legolas.

They were the best of the best, and 'deadly' seemed an understatement when describing them. And if the ones constantly assigned to Thranduil had grown a distinct appreciation for their liege's unique method of diplomacy, also known as gross intimidation, then the guards assigned to the prince had grown eyes out of the back of their heads.

From all tales, most laughingly told by Elladan, Elrohir or some of the Wood Elves under the influence of too much wine, Legolas has been a right scamp as an elfling and had frequently made a game out of evading his guards and landing them in untold trouble with the fiery Elvenking as he found out that his adorably innocent little elfling had given them the slip _again._

Due to this, the guards had long ago learned to try to counter Legolas's sheer cunning and ability to hide himself anywhere, and had, over the years, become near impossible for the prince to evade when his father was not on his side, as the captain of the guards now knew to cover every possibility, no matter how small, to ensure that his liege's son did not escape them again.

And considering that Aragorn was a mere mortal, and not able to move as silently as an Elf, they posed a considerable problem for the lone ranger.

Help came from Legolas in the form of some very evil ideas on how to take care of the guards, the Elven prince only wanted the ones below his balcony disabled, for then he would be able to get out no problem, and the wily Elf provided Aragorn with all the equipment necessary to accomplish such a feat.

'_By all means, take your time Aragorn!_' Legolas annoyed mental voice came to him. '_Let us make sure that we never make it to Rivendell on time!_'

Aragorn just swore that his friend would pay for this, '_Well, you are not the one who has to lug this around!' _he answered back with extreme annoyance, '_Dare I even ask how you came up with this monstrosity in the first place?_'

'_They are extremely good for smoking out spiders' dens_,' Legolas replied, '_Mixed with a draught to induce lassitude to assure that they do not come upon us unawares through the haze. That is why they shall be so helpful in getting rid of Tathren and Bruinel!_'

'_I knew there was a reason Erestor always shudders when asked to negotiate with Wood Elves_!' Aragorn groused, '_You are all insane._'

Even mind-speaking, the Elf sounded miffed, '_Erestor only says so because father thinks it is fun to provoke him incessantly. Now stop complaining else we are stuck here until you are old and grey!_'

Moving into position with all the stealth he could muster, Aragorn hefted the ingenious contraption and threw it right into the two guards.

The device burst open silently, flooding the area with cloudy grey smoke and causing the poor overwhelmed guards to drop to the ground.

Only one managed to stagger forward and get a very good grip on Aragorn's tunic, pulling it so hard that Aragorn started to gasp from lack of air, as he tried to pry the guard's death grip from his clothing.

Aragorn did not need to alert Legolas to this change of events, as the Elven Prince had been keeping a sharp look-out, and so he swiftly came to Aragorn's rescue and easily discharged the lone guard left standing.

"I had it under control. I did not need your help." Aragorn protested as Legolas flashed him his patented 'how do you ever manage it?' look.

"Of course," Legolas replied, his face admirably straight, "I am sure that you meant to choke to death. My mistake. Now, let us depart ere my father learns of this."

The last was spoken in such a dark tone that had Aragorn look askance at the normally calm tempered Elf, "Legolas, do not think so ill of your father. You are his only heir. By right you should not be going at all. You should not judge him so harshly.

"Quite frankly I cannot seem to summon up enough energy to care." Legolas answered, "It is more than apparent that he has little trust in me to return, which speaks of his regard for my abilities. He was only trying to protect his kingdom, regardless of how I felt."

"He was trying to protect _you_… the same as he has done many times before," Aragorn pointed out, "You shall worry him half to death with this escape anyway. Can you not consider that punishment enough?"

"Perhaps." Legolas grudgingly admitted, "But I shall still demand an apology the next time we meet."

"By the way," Aragorn began, "How is your father going to deal with this stunt?"

"I would imagine there will be chaos, panic, and disorder... And so my work here is done." Legolas said with a small smile, "And I daresay that he will skin you alive for helping me!"

"What joy," Aragorn deadpanned as they marched through the forest. One thing for certain, until he was out of these woods, he would be imagining Thranduil's wrath when he caught up with them.

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The Misty Mountains, 3018 TA, 3 weeks later.

The sharp sound of steel meeting steel, and of the twanging of bow-string were the first things to reach Glorfindel's ears as he led his party through the Misty Mountains, back to the valley of Rivendell.

Having been charged with seeking out Radagast the Brown, his party consisted of himself, Boromir of Gondor, Glóin, his son Gimli, and two other Dwarves.

Which was why when Glorfindel went to check out the source of the sounds, he groaned in absolute frustration when he saw the two currently battling with a horde of orcs.

Having put up with very badly hidden crude remarks about himself and the Elven race in general, he knew all too well what the Dwarves' reaction to this little debacle would be.

Help Legolas Thranduilion?

Glorfindel thought they would much rather sit back and hope for some appropriately gruesome death.

But unfortunately for him, as the other combatant was his liege's currently estranged foster son, he had no choice but to wade into the mess they had undoubtedly drawn down upon themselves.

"To arms!" he called to the Dwarves and the grumpy Gondorion, "Orcs are upon us!"

At his words the rest of his party leaped up, grabbing their weapons and followed the golden Elda into the fray. And as Glorfindel had hoped, all were too concerned with slaughtering the orcs to notice the presence of Aragorn and Legolas.

The Dwarves leaped upon the chance to take out their frustration at being led by an Elf by wreaking havoc on the orcs. Boromir took things in his stride, killing the beasts with an orderly fashion that had even Glorfindel doing a double take. Some things were just not meant to be routine.

Carving his way over to the two beleaguered figures, he gave them his best glare whilst simultaneously slicing orcs, "What in Arda are you doing here?!" he hissed, "I thought you were in Mirkwood! Did your father did not give you guards, Legolas?"

The Elven Prince in question winced at his question and even Aragorn's expression darkened noticeably, "Let us not talk about that," Legolas replied while neatly decapitating an orc with his long knife, "'Tis a rather long story and not one I would go into with Dwarves or orcs present."

Typically, the fighting had died down enough by then to allow Gimli son of Glóin to hear that remark and see that that blasted Thranduilion (son of Thranduil), and he gave the Elf a look of such scorching malice as he helped finish off the remaining orcs, that Glorfindel wondered that Legolas was not burned to ashes.

And even as he tried to gather in his enlarged party; consisting of one newly hostile man of Gondor, a grumpy heir of Isildur, a strangely jumpy Elven Prince, and a group of murderous Dwarves.

Apparently the Valar were not satisfied with his dying only once, as it seemed that they were quite eager to see him killed in the middle of the crossfire from this lot…

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Rivendell, 3018 TA, mid December.

The month of December was passing when the sons of Elrond and Buffy returned to Elrond's valley.

Long had their journey been, ever chasing the illusive Ringwraiths, hunting them almost to Gondor's door, where they had been obliged to turn around, having no time to waste and knowing that so close to their master's domain, they could not stop them.

Buffy herself, slayer though she was, had wearied of the chase first. Able to better sense the Ringwraiths due to the poison that had once tainted her and her own slayer abilities, she had grown sick of the chills that wracked her when she got too close to uncloaked evil and felt their ghostly malice.

The twins' concern had turned them into fretting mother hens, until Buffy had been _very_ tempted to kill the twin heirs to Imladris far more times than even Elrond would have guessed.

Due to their harassment, they had returned when Buffy would have chased the wraiths against all common sense, and had taken care of her so dotingly and faithfully that she was _this_ close to knocking them out and gift wrapping them before she delivered them to the Dwarves as playthings.

Unfortunately, she had seen her own reflection lately and knew that 'haggard' was an understatement. Which meant that Elrond and Arwen would descend on her the moment she reached the Last Homely House, and she would be lucky if she escaped from her rooms within a week.

Elrohir noted her dread and tried to soothe her as he would have done Arwen, "Do not fret. I am sure that ada (dad) shall be much too busy with the reports to take much notice of you immediately. And Arwen shall undoubtedly be most busy too."

Buffy had no such illusions, "Oh, they're gonna notice, and then they're gonna kill me." she replied, "And I just know that Erestor will land me in it if I try to sneak in. So either way I'm doomed."

"Adar is not that bad!" Elladan protested. (father)

"No, he's worse," Buffy said, "And _way_ too concerned with my health! You'd swear that if I got a cold, I'd drop dead the way he goes on!"

The brethren had no answer to that, and so they rode up to Elrond's halls in silence.

Buffy visibly winced when she saw Arwen waiting for them, and the steadily growing concern and protective rage gathering on her lovely face. Yep, she was dead.

But the Elf Lady only gave a long suffering sigh and turned to her brothers, "So how many times have you disgraced yourselves?" Arwen asked dryly.

Elladan and Elrohir shared an identical smirk, "At every available opportunity." they answered in unison, causing their younger sister to roll her eyes.

And then when Buffy was trying to sneak away, her arm shot out and grabbed the slayer's, halting her in mid step. "And where do you think you are going?" she demanded, as her brothers smothered laughter behind her, "I am taking you to ada, and then we shall put you in bed for a week! You look terrible!"

Buffy could only mouth an 'I told you so' to the amused twins as she was dragged away, knowing now that it would be the twins to give their report to the Lord of the Valley, because if she knew Elrond, which she did, she was going to be administered a sleeping drought in the very near future.

Valar knew the Elf was the biggest mother hen of them all!

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Elrond's study, Rivendell, 3018 TA, December

With the scout's return, chaos once more descended on the valley of Rivendell.

If it was not Aragorn up in arms over Buffy joining the fellowship whilst glaring at Arwen who was fussing over Buffy's health when she returned with the twins, then Legolas was trying to stop the stem of message-birds his father was sending, all but threatening to cart him off to Valinor _and_ pay back Elrond for 'recklessly endangering Middle Earth and Legolas with his idiotic, Noldorin Peredhel ways, corrupting honest Elves into having ideas of such harebrained nonsense that it just _had_ to be a plot of some sort'. (Half-Elven)

Naturally, Elrond had been very appreciate of the litany of complaints that Thranduil was regularly sending him. It was not as if he did not have enough amused sarcasm from his two chief advisors, Glorfindel and Erestor, who seemed determined to quip him into removing such obviously deranged Elves from their post.

But as if that was not enough to contend with, and the Valar wished to add more to their sport, there was a veritable war taking over the valley.

When asked how it got to this stage, Glorfindel and Erestor had just shrugged and mumbled something about the so-called 'Peredhel penchant for trouble' and walked away quickly.

But Elrond was at the end of his tether.

This on going, and rather sadistic prank war that had roared through the valley with all the chaos that he imagined a landslide and the eruption of Mount Doom together could accomplish.

The Dwarves were at loggerheads with the Elves; Buffy, Aragorn and Arwen made up a triangle that regularly generated loud arguments and the occasional storm of fury throughout the house; the Hobbits, led by Bilbo, were taking bets on the outcomes and tactics of all the other groups, all whilst driving the cooks and Erestor insane because they felt the need to eat their way through the valley's entire winter food stores; Boromir and Aragorn were at odds with each other, and their rivalry transmuted to nearly everything; Gandalf was mad with Buffy because she stole his staff to hit Aragorn with it, and the wizard and the slayer were often seen to be trading either heartily amused or cross looks, depending on which one of them it was; Glorfindel and Buffy had restarted their 'slayer' name calling battles, each trying to best the other; Merry and Pippin were engaged in a mushroom smuggling scam under Sam's nose; Arwen was trying to flirt with Legolas, who was so worried that his father would send guards after him, that he was oblivious to all else save for his continued campaign against the Dwarves.

To sum it all up, Buffy was cranky, Aragorn resentful, the twins were terrors, Legolas was turning out to be a devious mastermind at redefining the term 'cruel and unusual punishment', Boromir was sullen, the Dwarves were riled, his advisors were much too amused for his liking and he was stressed nearly to his limits.

Obviously, either the Valar or Galadriel had decided he deserved punishment for _something._

At last count, the list of atrocities was as follows; the Dwarves' beards had been coated with honey while they slept, itching power of some sort had been poured into some key Elves' baths, Erestor's precious stockrooms ransacked, all of Legolas's clothes suddenly found floating in the Bruinen, the Dwarves' axes found being chewed by horses, a mysterious avalanche of horse manure in the dining hall, Glóin mysteriously getting locked in the wine cellar for two days, Aragorn getting bombarded by a horde of angry Dwarves after unwittingly taking the blame for one of the terrible trio's plots, and a flock of birds suddenly deciding to nest in Gimli son of Glóin's room. The list just went on and on.

He was currently doing paperwork and also trying to figure out a way of ending this enmity before he killed them all but sadly his current state of blissful silence was not to last…

The enraged cry of "Lord Elrond!" reached the Lord of Imladris's ears and he winced. Putting down the sheaves of parchment he had been perusing, he schooled his face into calmness and waited for the arrival of his chief advisor.

The sight that greeted him was one so shocking that even he, long trained in the art of composure thanks to his darling children, could not hide his surprised and horrified expression.

Standing in the doorway, looking like a mountain had fallen in on him was Erestor; covered in head to toe with flour and other foodstuffs and wine staining and dripping from his finely appointed robes.

The look on his face resembled Smaug in a temper; Elrond thought idly; he could almost see the smoke coming from Erestor. Fanned ever higher by the roaring fire that was his anger. Elrond did not even have to ask to know what had happened to the unfortunate Elf.

He had become the latest victim in the ongoing prank war, though from the looks of it, Erestor had fallen prey to the twins' group. It just was very much those three terrors style. Legolas had this uncanny knack of hitting people where it hurt.

"Dare I even ask?" Elrond said in resignation, "Or should I just find my two demons?"

"This is out of hand, Elrond!" Erestor said, barely holding his temper in check for the moment, "They have ruined two weeks work!"

The awful implication came into the Elvenlord's head, "Not that!" he exclaimed, "Surely they would not be so foolish as to destroy something that benefited them too!"

"Aye, my lord," Erestor said, sounding strained, "The leaving feast is ruined. And I have not yet even factored in the Hobbits' decimation of the stores."

"You cannot salvage the feast?" Elrond asked, "Arwen was so looking forward to it and I was hoping to force the fellowship to behave ere they left."

"Try cooking a feast when your own kitchen is attacking you." Erestor drawled, even as the gunk he was covered in dripped to the polished floor. "Come with me my lord." he said, leading the Peredhel to the wreck that once was the kitchen.

Smoke was coming out of the ovens, a water pipe had burst, there was flour and jam, and other foodstuffs everywhere. And there was a squad of absolutely furious and thoroughly food-encased Elves trying to fix the mess.  
  
"This is a complete and total disaster. Someone just kill me and spare me the agony of clean up." Elrond groaned, as he realised that this was not something that would be remedied quickly. Apparently Imladris would have to adapt new methods of cooking or starve thanks to his sons and friends.

"Ask and you shall receive." Erestor said, pulling out a dagger from his robes, looking decidedly dangerous.

Elrond was not amused, "They will have to be punished for this. But as this rate, the entire Fellowship shall be implicated." Erestor's expression darkened as he realised that Elrond was not going to disembowel the culprits.

"Considering the current trend for Fellowship members to land in the most bothersome sort of ill luck lately, I say that you would be lucky to have even one left by the time they leave. Because I swear that I am gong to kill them myself for this outrage!" Erestor roared menacingly as he stormed off, fury like a cloud around him and looking decidedly lethal.

He half hoped the culprits remembered Erestor's prowess during the Last Alliance. And even Legolas and the twins would be hard pressed to match the sheer underhanded devious genius that was Erestor with a grudge.

On second thoughts, he thought to himself, a wicked smirk spreading across his face, they deserve everything they get. And Erestor loses his temper so rarely that it is indeed a precious sight. This should be _most_ amusing….

And with that he hurried out to help his advisor slaughter the tormenters of Rivendell…

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Two days before the fellowship left, Elrond took Aragorn aside for an important event. "The Sword That Was Broken has been reforged."

"The time has come then?" Aragorn asked quietly. He knew that this moment had been coming and was even able to overcome his own lingering resentment towards the Elvenlord. "Narsil is to be drawn again?"

"Nay," Elrond replied, shaking his head, and handing Aragorn the sword in its sheath, "Narsil passed into history with its bearer. And the time has now come again for a new challenge and a new name. Andúril it shall be called, the Flame of the West, for with it lies the hope of the Lords of the West, even if he had none himself."

He watched Aragorn draw the blade, testing its balance and admiring the craftsmanship, and in him he saw a King, and renewed hope, "Let your heart lead you Aragorn, and I hope that this blade serves you well," he said as he left quietly, leaving Aragorn to ponder on his fate.

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Elrond had been able to overlook some things, but then they had gone too far and the Dwarves had desecrated the library, that most sacred of places.

That meant that they all had to die.

Elves dived out of his way as he stormed past them, his glower so dark that even Sauron himself would have thought twice ere going near him.

To even think that they had dared topple the shelves filled with millennia of history and painful work! He had found it much amusing that Erestor had tried to cut strips of flesh off his three sons and Legolas, but this was an entirely different type of rage.

Storming into the great hall with all the demeanour of an Elvenlord about to incite a Kinslaying, Elrond shocked the residents of Rivendell into a stupor. The last time he had been _this_ mad was when Arwen told him that she wanted to choose a mortal life.

Arwen, gleefully watching as her brothers got their due, cheerfully gave Buffy a running commentary of events, as the slayer joined her in watching the gathered Elves and disgruntled Dwarves get their comeuppance.

"My brothers Elladan, Elrohir and Estel," Arwen explained rather unnecessarily, "They are in a _lot_ of trouble with dear ada. It appears that someone ransacked the library. Ada is furious."

Buffy watched the rampaging Lord Elrond for a moment before replying, "Yes, I think he is."

Beside them Boromir could not help but overhear their conversation and broke in, "The son of Arathorn is involved in this?" he asked.

"Up to his dense little head," Buffy replied, "Though I'd wager it was the Dwarves' fault. The twins are not that stupid."

As Elrond's rage peaked, a bright white glow surrounded him, and a wind started to blow throughout the room. "That is enough!" he roared, levelling fierce and terrible glares on all in the hall, especially the Dwarves and the group of Elves responsible. "Middle Earth is on the brink of war and you act like children! I will tolerate it no more! I will not let you destroy us, saving Sauron the bother of doing so! Any more nonsense and _all _of you shall be treated to a stay behind locked doors! And I will not be held responsible for my actions! Do I make myself clear?!"

The Dwarves looked scared, the Elves only a little less so but all agreed and then watched as Elrond stormed out of the all, leaving almost as impressionably as he had come in.

"Bit of a hothead isn't he?" Buffy remarked idly, "I mean he made with the glowy thing for the first time this year."

Arwen just looked at the shaken group in the hall, "That has been building up for months." she said aloud, and then mindful of Boromir's presence, she mind-spoke to Buffy, '_Vilya stirs, and he fears for the Fellowship. Some say 'tis only a fool's hope and that he has doomed us all. Adar is in no mood for levity, not when the Shadow is closing in…_'

Buffy couldn't bring herself to disagree with her, she knew the facts all too well. Unless some miracle happened, there wasn't much hope for Frodo.

And what she feared most was once again being the last one left standing, and the last one to decide the fate of the Ring.

The Ring whose call she felt in her very bones, and the one thing she didn't know if she could beat…

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Rivendell, 3018 TA, 25 December.

The date the Fellowship left was a great irony to Buffy; they would set off to save Middle Earth on Christmas day. Which in her opinion sucked because she would be missing all the festivities and have to trek through snow in the near future.

But what was really aggravating her as she said her goodbyes was Glorfindel, who seemed intent on sending her off with his usual barrage of cutting remarks.

"It's Christmas and instead of presents, I get insults. Yep, things are just looking so great at the moment," Buffy said sarcastically, glaring at the Elf who was ruining the leaving feast for her.

While not as sparse on food as Elrond and Erestor had feared, they had made up any defences with plenty of ale.

Which in Buffy's opinion equated to lots of drunk Dwarves.

Buffy spared a glance at the Dwarf and then turned her attention back to her friend, "Methinks the dwarf is drunk," she pronounced, watching Gimli sway on his feet and wincing at his awful singing. "Why don't you go help him out Glorfindel?" she suggested sweetly, but with a devilish gleam in her eye, "I'm sure he would welcome being helped by such a famous little boy scout."

While Glorfindel did not often understand her references, he had learned over the years that 'boy scout' was not a name he liked and so he levelled a sharp glare on her. "But I think he would benefit from a lady's touch," he replied just as saccharinely sweetly, "After all, 'twould mean that you actually would be able to beat the Dwarf as he is so charmingly drunk."

"I have bested every foe I've met." Buffy said dangerously, giving 'Balrog Boy' a pointed look.

"I slayed a Lord of Balrogs." Glorfindel defended.

"Oh," Buffy said silkily, "But I'm worse than a Balrog."

Glorfindel could not deny that, - she was a right little minx - and decided to change tactics. "I came back from the dead." Glorfindel defended.

"So did I. Two times." Buffy said. "Let's see you beat that, buddy! I can best you with my eyes closed!"

"Please! No matter how good you are, I fought in the First Age. Nothing like being in the middle of Morgoth's reign to get in some target practice." Glorfindel said airily and then seeing someone approach to take Buffy away, he got serious, "Be careful Dagnir (slayer), you have a dark road ahead of you."

Buffy smiled, understanding his abrupt switch from hostile to caring, "Thank you for everything. You have been a major pain in the ass."

"Well, you are welcome and let me assure you that you have been an even bigger pain in my ass." Glorfindel replied, "I would say more but someone comes for you."

At his words, Buffy turned around to find herself face to face with Aragorn, "Buffy," he said quietly, "Shall you dance? I desire to speak with you."

Sensing that the time for reconciliation had come, Buffy agreed and allowed Aragorn to lead her out onto the dance floor.

'Twas not a slow song, but then again it was nothing like the discos and parties of LA and Sunnydale, and she had to firmly squash the little fluttery feelings as Aragorn held her in his arms.

Bad Buffy, bad! She admonished herself, and focused on hearing what the ranger was saying.

"I think 'tis time to put our differences aside, Buffy," Aragorn said, "I am sorry for my interference, but you have already been into Mordor once on my account, I did not wish to see you go there a second time."

"I can handle myself, Aragorn," Buffy reminded him gently, "I was kinda born to kill baddies. And Mordor can't be worse than where I come from, which was like Monsterville, or Evilsville. I can handle it. I'd worry about myself, if I were you."

"I too can take care of myself," Aragorn said with a chuckle, "And one way or another, my destiny lies in Mordor."

"Then can we stop the fighting? 'Cos I'm kinda getting sick of it?" Buffy said, "You promise not to act all overprotective mother hen and I'll try not to get killed. Deal?"

"'Tis not what I like, but I have no choice Buffy," Aragorn said, "You will always show me up Dagnir. Who am I to command the Vampire Slayer?"

"Too true," Buffy said, as the song ended and Aragorn released her, leaving her feel somewhat bereft, "But I have to go. I have to say my goodbyes."

Without a word, Aragorn let her go, but she felt his eyes on her for the remainder of the evening.

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Rivendell, 3018 TA, 25 December, dusk.

At dusk, the Fellowship gathered to depart the fair valley.

The company took little gear of war, for their hope was in secrecy not in battle. And a lot lay in their speed, which meant light packs.

All were furnished by Elrond with thick warm clothes, and they had jackets and cloaks lined with fur. Spare food and clothes and blankets and other needs were laden on Bill the pony, whom Sam had fallen in love with on the journey from Bree.

For once, the group was not filled with strife, but with solemn dread of the great task before them.

Their farewells had been said in the great hall by the fire, and they were only waiting now for Gandalf, who had not yet come out of the house. A gleam of firelight came from the open doors, and soft lights were glowing in many windows. Bilbo huddled in a cloak, stood silent on the doorstep beside Frodo.

Buffy sat on a low wall, trying to ignore the whispers of the Ring and talking quietly with Arwen, whose face was grave and worried for her friend. And Aragorn sat with his head bowed to his knees; only Elrond, and perhaps Arwen or Buffy knew fully what this hour meant to him. The others could only be seen as grey shapes in the darkness.

Elrond came out with Gandalf, and he headed to Arwen's side first, drawing her away from Buffy, and gently squeezing her shoulder in a gesture of support.

Elrond then called the company to him. "This is my last word," he said in a low voice, "The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid; neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the company and the council, and only then in the greatest need. The others go with him as companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry, or come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows. The further you go, the less easy it will be to withdraw; yet no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road."

"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens," said Gimli, Buffy only silently watched him, remembering past events, where her friends had turned their backs on her when her road had darkened. Even so many years after, what was a lifetime ago, it still had the power to hurt her.

"Maybe," Elrond said sagely, looking sombrely at the Dwarf, "but let him not vow to walk into the dark, who has not seen the nightfall."

"Yet sworn word may strengthen quaking heart." said Gimli with his usual stubbornness.

"Or break it," warned Elrond, "Look not too far ahead! But go now with good hearts! Farewell, and may the blessings of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!"

"Good…. Good luck!" cried Bilbo, stuttering with the cold, but trying to be supportive of his heir, "I don't suppose you will be able to keep a diary, Frodo my lad, but I shall expect a full account when you get back. And don't be too long! Farewell!"

Many others of Elrond's household stood in the shadows and watched them go, bidding them farewell with soft voices. There was no laughter, and no song or music.

And when at last the Fellowship started moving towards the exit of the valley, Arwen emerged from the shadows where she had withdrawn to scrutinise him, pain evident in her grey eyes, and without any word to anyone, she left for her room.

Elrond glanced around for a sign of his wayward daughter, knowing that her heart had to be pained, but all he saw was the barest hint of a robe disappearing around a corner.

Apparently Arwen's feelings ran deeper than he knew…

He only hoped to the Valar that all returned alive, or he realised that he might have saved his daughter from Aragorn only to lose her to grief.

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'Twas a quiet party that walked out of the valley, and Aragorn was no exception.

Many stranger and bewildering feelings had plagued him ever since he had held Buffy in his arms when he danced with her that night, and even now, though he tried to rid himself of the thoughts, he found himself thinking of her constantly.

Turning his head, he sought out her petite form in the darkness, wondering how she truly felt about the Fellowship's endeavour. By coincidence or perhaps she felt his eyes on her, she turned to look at him then.

And as Aragorn looked upon Buffy's grave face, and their eyes met, both alight with the same understanding of the toil and trouble that lay ahead, the ranger felt his heart clench a little, and he nearly staggered away from her unknowing gaze as realisation hit.

He really did have feelings for his Vampire Slayer…

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A/N: Well? What do you think? Feedback welcome and hoped for! Please READ and REVIEW!!!!

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Next chapter: The Fellowship leave for darker pastures… They learn the meaning of the word avalanche… and they get a surprise in the night….

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Elvish:

Dúnadan - Man of the West

Adar - father

Ion nín - my son

Imladris - Rivendell

Mellon nín - my friend

Estel - hope

Meldiren - my friend

Mîr - Jewel

Ada - dad

Peredhel - Half-Elven

Thranduil - son of Thranduil

Andúril - Flame of the West

Dagnir - slayer

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Amon Lanc - 'the Naked Hill' in Sindarin. The site of the tower of Dol Guldur in Southern Mirkwood.

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Bruinen - translated: Loudwater. The river bordering the valley of Rivendell. It is under Elrond's sway and he can make it flood at need.

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Cirith Ungol - Translates as 'Spider's Cleft'. The name was lent not only to the pass but to the fortress that guarded it as well. Cirith Ungol was a fortress unto its own. The Tower of Cirith Ungol, was a stronghold made by the Men of Gondor after the Last Alliance to keep watch on Mordor but Mordor took it over.

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Naugrim - 'stunted ones'. Elvish term for Dwarves.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Oropher - King of Greenwood (now known as Mirkwood) in the Second Age. Was killed during the Last Alliance when he refused to follow Gil-galad's lead in the Last Alliance of Elves and Men and he led a charge too soon, losing two thirds of his army and dying himself. Generally thought to be cantankerous. He was the father of Thranduil.

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Taur-e-Nelaedelos - The name of Mirkwood in Sindarin. It means 'Forest of the Great Fear'. This is what Greenwood the Great (Eryn Galen in Sindarin) was named after the rise of Dol Guldur.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

Yávien - The name of Legolas's mother and Thranduil's queen. in this story. (fictional of course). Translates to 'Autumn'. She was slaughtered by orcs who recognised her as Thranduil's Queen, and her body was dumped back in the forest for the Elven patrols to find, as a message and a warning for Thranduil.

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	27. Tender Musings

**FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER**

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but the plot.

**Summary**: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

**Author's notes**: thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Fans of my Harry Potter fic, 'History Repeats Itself' please check out the important announcement in chapter 10.

_Review responses:_

_Allen Pitt_ - sorry, no Angel or Spike. In person anyway. Oh, Sauron's already got help, but not from anyone you suggested. And yes, Rohan should be very interesting!

_Anna_ - why, thank you! Don't know anything about the bucket of water though. Ask Bilbo. Okay, when is Legolas and Arwen's chance? Sorry, but can't say. And some of Aragorn's reactions are in this chapter.

_Boo_ - well, I had to have the cliffhanger somewhere, didn't I?

_BuffyandDracoLover_ - depends on your perspective.

_ChibiChibi_ - of course it was long. This is Aragorn we're talking about.

_emerald sorceress_ - good guess on Aragorn, but I am evil remember?

_FallenStar2_ - why thank you! Yes, I think murder was on the cards there for a while! And yes, it's one step forward, two steps back with our favourite couple!

_goldenshadows_ - well, technically it's my guess. Sorry, it's a 'no' to the twice a week thing. I'm stressed enough with one chapter a week! I might start 2 chapters a week for the Christmas hols, but that's as soon as it's going to be.

_Haley_ - okay, discarding the brick then. I'm going to follow both the book, and the movie, and some of my own imagination. And yes, the Legolas/Thranduil meeting is probably not going to be pleasant. How long does it take me to write a chapter? Probably about 4-5 days when I've got school and 1-2 days when I don't.

_Imp17_ - you can come out now. It's safe again.

_Lady Alathon_ - Legolas and Arwen will get their chance to shine.

_Lady of the Wood_ - depends on your definition of fluff. There will be moments of mush mixed in with angst, frustration, misunderstandings, and extreme danger, etc. You get the drift.

_LadyWolfBane_ - that's going to be a while yet. And no, no baddies from Buffy's world, but plenty of ones from ME.

_Lunawolf_ - obviously not Aragorn!

_Mari_ - yes, Aragorn was dragged into it, thanks to his darling brothers and friends. And yes, of course he messes it up. He's been Mr Denial for years, I don't think he's going change into Mister Smooth and Suave overnight. As for Théoden, you'll have to wait until we get to The Two Towers. What is a Mary Sue-ish story? I understand your dilemma, as it took me the guts of 2 years and a horrible e-mail for me to understand. A Mary Sue is an original female character, who is dropped into ME, and apparently steals the limelight, tends to be unusual, and swipes lines from Tolkien's characters.

_organized-chaos_ - thanks! And the evil disclaimer has already been given. And wouldn't a salmon be just a little bit too soft and mushy for adequate hitting power?

_Phoenix83ad_ - Happens - this site likes to eat things on me too. Considering what he's going to encounter, he might have been better off in the dungeons! Less chance of heart failure that way! Merry and Pippin were too busy smuggling mushrooms, raiding pantries and earning money from the bets to bother getting involved themselves.

_restive nature_ - It's not so much that he didn't ask her as that Galadriel, and maybe Arwen, are the only ones to know the full story. And with her guilt towards Arwen over Aragorn, Galadriel would be the only one to know the real deal. And yes, madness was a very real risk in Rivendell around then. And yes, Sauron - smart. And the First also liked to mess with Buffy's mind.

_ShawThang_ - welcome back! And I would hope that I didn't portray Thranduil as a Dark Lord. And as for giving Legolas the ability to mind-speak, I don't think it was too out there. Galadriel's main powers lay in reading hearts and futures, not mindspeaking. That was just ordinary for her. And as both Thranduil and Legolas are royalty too, chances are they'd have the ability to mind-speak. With the strength of the Eldar, I doubt it was too rare amongst them.

_Sierra-Falls_ - thanks! And Buffy's vial of blood will be a key point in the not so distant future. And how will she react to a courting Aragorn? That would just be giving it away!

_Sparky24_ - if you re-read that part, you'll find that the only mention of Christmas is from Buffy, who's grumbling at the time. The feast is only the leave-taking party for the Fellowship, so the natives don't know about Christmas at all!

_Star_ - I hope it gets fixed soon!

_Viv_ - thanks a million! :) and listen I update once a week during school term, at the weekends and usually twice a week during my hols. And don't worry, I have every intention of finishing this story so the wait will hopefully be worth it!

_And major thanks to:_

_Clcountry, DragonStar, Egastin77, Jania, Little Red Rabbit, ms8309, Night-Owl123, Princess Serenity4, RedsLover03, Silver Queen, Vik, White-witch Sakura, Wild320,_

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: TENDER MUSINGS

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Hollin, Eregion, 3019 TA, January 8.

It took them about two weeks to reach Hollin after they left Rivendell. They had been uneventful for the most part, but as Buffy walked across the lands that had seen the slaughtering of Elves by the thousands, she got the feeling that their luck would not hold.

She had made a concerted effort to avoid these lands like the plague before, as every time she came near here, she could feel It.

Feel the blood that stained the earth, feel the shadow of death that haunted it still, and when she dared to close her eyes, she heard the screams and felt the pain and terror of those who had once dwelt here, until the Dark Lord came with fire, and armies, and slaughtered them all.

She tried her best to hide the fact that her skin was crawling, and that her skin was much paler than normal, passing her appearance off as a side effect of camping for so long.

She got the feeling she hadn't fooled everyone though. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gandalf remained unconvinced she was sure, but as long as they didn't try to pry, she could deal with that.

But she was beginning to deeply regret her decision to go with the Fellowship. It seemed that over the years, she had become too confident in her slayer abilities, totally forgetting some of the weaknesses she had learned the hard way in Sunnydale.

Such as the fact that the slayer line started with a demon, and she herself knew all too well the lure of the darkness.

And now here she was, walking on a battleground of death, hearing the endless whispering of the Ring; promising her security, safety, an end to all this madness.

And she hated herself for being so weak as to listen.

She instinctively knew, that in this scenario, that being the slayer was being her own worst enemy. Fighting for the light, drawn from the dark; there was no way in hell she could come out of this quest unchanged.

She knew what the First had been capable of, it's ability to toy with someone's mind, but she was learning that the One Ring was much the same in its method of attack. This wasn't something that could be fought by force of arms, something that couldn't be outwitted; the damn Ring pulled out your deepest desires and fears, your past and your future, to ensnare you, and oftentimes, you wouldn't realise it until it was too late.

And it sickened Buffy that she couldn't look anyone in the eye and say that the Ring had no hold over her.

Her greatest fear has haunted her nightmares for the past two weeks; and she knew that it was finally taking its toll on her. But what could she say in reply to her friend's concerned glances? That she was having nightmares of being driven mad by the Ring and killing them all? Oh yes, that would just make everything _so_ much better, she thought, then they'd all be waiting for me to go off the deep end.

She walked along, following the others, her senses alert for danger, but her mind was utterly focused on her dilemma. And she got the sinking feeling that she already knew the chorus line for this particular problem. She had heard it many times before.

"From beneath you it devours…" she whispered to herself, totally unaware that she was speaking aloud.

In front of her, Aragorn stopped, "What did you say, Buffy?" he asked, wondering at the strange words.

The slayer's head jerked up in surprise, "N-nothing, Aragorn," she said after a moment, "Nothing."

And because she was aware of Aragorn's gaze lingering on her with mingled worry and curiosity, she made an effort to seem more like herself. She couldn't afford to raise their suspicions.

Because if worst came to worst, she'd remove herself from the equation before she allowed herself to do what the Ring taunted her to do.

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Approx. 2 hours later.

Aragorn was by no means fooled by Buffy's attempts to assure him that everything was fine. He had been watching her, studying her in a different light, for the last two weeks. And he had known her for decades before that. She had fooled him for long enough, but not anymore.

He had been watching her with eyes that were no longer clouded, no longer blinded by affection for Arwen. He admitted to himself that he had blamed Buffy quite a bit for Arwen's breaking their betrothal, but as the shock faded, and the Evenstar's words sank in, he had to face up to the truth in them.

He did care for Buffy, he knew that. Whether it was love, he could not say yet, but he did want to see what it was, and only time would tell that.

He knew that Legolas was furious with him, though he was hiding it, - for the sake of the quest, Aragorn presumed - and the Elven Prince was becoming progressively chillier in demeanour with him. He also had a good idea what had caused his friend's ire.

Having never formally declared the breaking of the betrothal, Legolas did not know that Arwen had released him from his promise, and thereby setting him free. As a close friend of Arwen's, Legolas would not have been pleased to see her future husband enraptured by another woman.

He would have to remedy that soon, he knew, but he could not find the will power to keep his eyes away from Buffy.

At first, it had been curiosity that drove him, he had wanted to see Buffy in this new light, to judge his own feelings properly but lately, curiosity had been replaced with concern and anxiety for her. He knew that she was not sleeping well, and that something troubled her, but she would not talk to anyone, and instead tried to conceal her difficulties under a false cheerful façade.

He did not believe it for a second, but he hoped to have Buffy approach him with her problems, instead of going to her himself. His previous endeavours to shelter Buffy had not ended well, and with the stakes rising higher with every day, he did not want to jeopardise their relationship anymore than he had done previously with his ill judged actions.

But Buffy was not the only worry he had to deal with; apparently outside of Elrond's influence, a subtle but increasingly evident war was brewing again. Legolas and Gimli had decided not to put aside their animosity and were both trying to subtly rile and humiliate the other.

And it was wearing on his nerves.

Aragorn cast a suspicious and annoyed gaze at his friend, branches had been hitting into poor Gimli all day every time the Dwarf got within five feet of any tree and the ranger knew exactly who was behind it. Legolas, who could sweet talk nearly any tree into doing what he wanted was wearing a neutral expression but Aragorn could see the amused glint of satisfaction in the silver-blue eyes.

He could also tell that Gandalf was annoyed, but amusing himself by singing Bilbo's travelling song, 'the road goes ever on and on' and that Buffy and Boromir both looked to be possessing extremely shortened tempers as the antics of the others escalated. Seeing a disaster waiting to happen, Aragorn congratulated himself on being rear guard, and waited for the chaos to begin.

It happened less than half an hour later.

Pulled in a multitude of different directions by the Ring, her slayer senses, her desperation to keep herself from coming across as someone who couldn't cut it, her annoyance at the wizard, Elf and Dwarf, and her lack of sleep problem. Finally, Buffy just couldn't take it anymore and she snapped.

Launching herself at Gandalf, she tackled him to the ground, grabbing his staff and pointing it at his throat. "If you not stop singing, humming or otherwise vocalising that damn song, I will make sure your vocal chords go on an extended vacation. Understood?"

Gandalf only harrumphed and grabbed his staff back, brushing the grass off his robes, whilst Boromir actually clapped.

Buffy shot the man of Gondor a speculative look as Gandalf fumed at her actions, but decided to take it out on Legolas and Gimli instead, and she dropped back to his side. "Why did you clap?" she asked, remembering his previous opinion of her.

"Because I was very tempted to club him over the head with my shield if he kept up that ridiculous song much longer. Three hours was more than I could handle," he replied with a surprisingly friendly smile, "And I must say that you did a very good job, lady."

"Call me that again and I am going to hurt you." Buffy said good-naturedly, "But is that a truce I hear, my lord Boromir?"

"Aye, it is, Dagnir (slayer)," Boromir said, "My words at the council may have been harsh but you have proven yourself an experienced warrior and not someone that deserves my contempt."

Buffy smiled at him, "Then perhaps we can get somewhere besides being enemies," she said with delight, "Now, tell me of Minas Tirith and Gondor. I want to hear about your defences there because you are so going to need him."

And so as Boromir spoke of his homeland, and inadvertently cheered Buffy up some, Aragorn could only glower and wonder that his rival for rule managed to cheer up his friend better than he could. He belatedly recognised jealousy for what it was, but could not bring himself to stifle it when Boromir was being so blatantly annoying.

And so it was that when Gandalf announced that it was time to set up camp, as the morning was wearing on, 'twas a fellowship of very mixed feelings that settled down to rest.

Buffy, greatly cheered, even had the wherewithal to ignore Aragorn's strange glowers and to admonish the Hobbits for their excited plans for their rest and of course, their menu selections.

"It's not a road trip. It's a covert operation." Buffy said, laughing, "Since we don't have a chef here, let's just keep it simple, okay? Burned food is really not my thing."

Of course, the hobbits took offence at that, "Burned?" Sam sputtered, "By a hobbit? Now, look here, you may be a grand lady but you know nothing about hobbits! Our cooking is better than nearly everyone else's, well maybe not the Elves, but to actually burn something!"

Laughing even harder, Buffy took back her words, and plopped down next to Gimli, deciding that if she could make friends with one stand-offish member of the Fellowship, she may as well try her luck with another one.

Trying to engage him in conversation was an apparently wasted venture as Gimli plainly stated that he would not be decent company until he had had something to eat after the long hours of marching and so Buffy gracefully backed off, and plopped down on the ground to watch the goings on in the camp.

Their campground was a deep hollow, shrouded by big holly bushes, and the cover was so great that a fire was deemed permissible. This, of course, gave the hobbits great cheer as they could now have a leisurely supper-breakfast, which would actually be hot. Buffy had to admit that she was looking forward to that as well. It had been a _long_ time since Gandalf had deemed it safe to have a fire, which meant cold food for all.

And although they had marched all night, none of them were in a hurry to their bed-rolls after their meal. With Gandalf being unusually generous in that he did not mean to go on until the evening of the nest day, they had plenty of time for that, and they wanted to use this rare free time to relax in front of a cheery fire.

Only Aragorn was silent and restless, fidgeting around the campfire until at last he got up and wandered away from the company towards the ridge. At a significant look from Legolas, Buffy sighed and sacrificed her cosy place between Gimli and Boromir, both of whom had cheered up greatly since their first hot meal in at least a week.

Walking over to the morose ranger, who stood in the shadow of a tree, always scanning the southward and westward views, his head cocked as if he was trying to listen to something.

Buffy stopped beside him, shivering slightly from the chill wind sweeping along the ridge that had been tempered in the sheltered dell. "What's the matter, Aragorn? You're like a dog with a bone," she said, "There is nothing there to trouble us now."

He turned to look at her, and she was taken aback at the strangely intent look in his eyes,

"Something stalks us," he said after a moment, "I am surprised that you do not feel it Dagnir (slayer) but then again, your mind has not been with the fellowship this day."

"If anyone's daydreaming buddy, it's you," Buffy protested, unwilling to show Aragorn how close he was to the mark, "Are you sure it is not just the shadow of the Ring that's bothering you? If there were any nasties coming, I'd sense them before you."

"Not everything gives warning before it comes," Aragorn said darkly, looking down at the others laughing and talking below them, "Not even to you."

Buffy was surprised at his response to her, as it almost seemed that he was mad at her for some reason but before she could enquire further, Merry interrupted them. "What is the matter Strider?" the hobbit called up to them. "What are you looking for? Do you miss the East Wind?"

"No, indeed," Aragorn said, turning away from Buffy and moving closer to the others. Miffed, Buffy walked back to her spot by the fireplace to glare at the uncouth ranger, "But I miss something. I have been in the country of Hollin many seasons. No folk dwell here now, but many other creatures live here at all times, especially birds. Yet now all but you are silent. I can feel it. There is no sound for miles about us, and your voices seem to make the ground echo. I do not understand it."

Gandalf looked up with sudden interest, while Legolas looked at Buffy with curiosity, despite the slayer deliberately not looking in his direction, "But what do you guess is the reason?" he asked, "Is there more in it than surprise at seeing four hobbits, not to mention the rest of us, where people are so seldom seen and heard?"

"I hope that is it," Aragorn replied, "But I have a sense of watchfulness, and of fear, that I have never had here before. I know not what to make of it."

"Is this warning evil?" Buffy asked, "Or just annoying?"

"I know not what it is," Aragorn said, "And if any here were to identify it, I would have thought it to be you. Why come on this trip if you do not bother to safeguard your charge?"

Buffy's eyes flared with anger, and she attempted to skewer the man with her gaze, "Maybe you're just imagining things then, Aragorn," she said with exaggerated politeness, "Because I sense nothing."

"But let us say that Aragorn is right," Gandalf said, "What would bother us here?"

Buffy's wry voice spoke up with the answer, "Gandalf, we are being hunted. Everything else that's sane will get far, far away from what we carry. Evil has a tendency to do that."

"Then we must be more careful," said Gandalf, "If you bring a Ranger with you, it is well to pay attention to him, especially if the Ranger is Aragorn. We must stop talking aloud, rest quietly, and set the watch."

Buffy said no more that night, only flopping down on her bedroll, and staring up at the sky, trying to feign sleep. But she got the sinking suspicion that Aragorn knew more about her problems than he let on, and that he was going to start causing trouble soon.

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Aragorn's foreboding words had left a shadow over the company, and all were now eager for their beds, lest Gandalf rouse them at some abominably early hour. Buffy and Legolas held the first watch, and the Elven Prince wanted to use this time to sort out some of his concerns for his young friend.

But Buffy had a vested interest in avoiding being questioned and so had stationed herself close to the Boromir and Gandalf, both of whom would wake in a flash if there was any sound of trouble. And she also took it upon herself to move out of the camp, scouting for a bit to insure that no one was going to creep up on them unawares.

"There you are." Legolas said, cheerily seating himself beside her when she returned, "I must warn you that running is not going to help you, mellon nín." (my friend)

"Ah. Speak of the really annoying person." Buffy griped, "Don't you have anything better to do? Say, is there some crisis that requires immediate action... very far from here?"

Legolas dropped all pretence of being carefree and instead decided to pounce on his friend before she could get away, "Buffy, I have been watching you these past few days. Do not try to tell me that nothing ails you. You and Aragorn are strained also. What is the matter? "

"Are you trying to irritate me?" Buffy asked with false bravado.

"I do not know. Am I having any success?" Legolas replied, "You can bluff all you want Buffy, but I will pull it out of you eventually."

"What are you going to do? Whine me to death?" Buffy said dryly,

"I will have you know that it takes a genius to whine appealingly." Legolas protested, "And no, I do not plan on 'whining you to death'. But I would prefer to help you with your troubles ere you collapse from exhaustion."

"Listen, I'm fine, okay?!" Buffy exclaimed, "Just give it a rest, Greenleaf."

"I cannot," Legolas said quietly, "You forget the sharpness of Elven hearing, Dagnir, I have heard you in your sleep these past few nights. You hide it well, but not well enough. What does 'from beneath you it devours' mean, meldiren?" (my friend)

Buffy's sharp intake of breath was all the confirmation he needed, and the slayer knew that the time for bluffing was over. He already knew. ""It's something I heard a long time ago. The favourite catchphrase of an old enemy. Let's just say that it usually never bodes well for a slayer's life expectancy."

"An enemy from your former home?" Legolas asked, trying to piece together this puzzle.

"Pure evil from my old home," Buffy said, shivering as she remembered the First's ploys.

"Then why do these memories haunt you now?" he asked softly, resting a hand on Buffy's shoulder to comfort her.

"That's the problem. I don't think they're memories," Buffy admitted, "I'd almost think it was the Ring playing with me, but there's no way it could know about the First. You're only the third person I've ever mentioned it too, and Arwen and Galadriel don't strike me as the 'gossip with the enemy' type."

"Then what do you think it means?"

"I honestly think it means I'm not intended to survive this little trip," Buffy said darkly, "I heard those words in dreams before slayers got killed, and in Middle Earth, I am the only slayer."

"Buffy," Legolas began, "None of our odds for surviving this are great, as my adar so helpfully reminded me the last time we spoke. But this is weighing you down so much, pen dithen (little one)! You, who has marched into Mordor with nary a fear, to be so burdened is not like you. You say the Ring is trying to play with you, could that be the cause of this mood?"

"I wish," Buffy said sighing, "All I can feel is this foreboding… as if something is coming, and not what Aragorn suggested either. I'm seeing my own death in my dreams, Legolas. Everything around me is dark, but I can hear the hisses of whatever monster is there with me, and I can hear those words, 'from beneath you it devours', and just as I hear 'Beware what lurks beneath the ground.', it gives way underneath me and I'm just falling. And then I can feel something ripping me open, feel my blood going everywhere, and I'm dying and it's still taunting me, 'The thing beneath it, beneath you.' it always says! And I honestly don't know how much more I can take."

"Buffy!" Legolas said in absolute shock at her words, wrapping an arm around her and hugging her to him, "Why have you not told Gandalf?!" he demanded, "Your life is at stake!"

"Every slayer has her sell by date, I'm no exception," Buffy said grimly, "Besides they don't realise, don't see the danger like I do... What's the point of even trying to explain it to them except to convince them that I've gone off the deep end?"

"Everybody has a breaking point. Even you." Legolas warned, horrified to see such a proud creature so defeated.

"Death can come for us. Any time. Any place." Buffy said, "That I learned a long time ago. I've had a long reprieve. It had to end sometime."

"It must be the Ring trying to trick you!" Legolas protested, "You have survived this long, don't let despair cheat you now! It might not even be you! You say you have had dreams about others before! It might not even concern you at all!"

"I really wish I could believe that, Legolas, but in the end," she said sadly, "Who else is there?"

There was silence between them after that, and as Legolas was lost to the horror of her dire words, Buffy silently got up and moved away, resuming her watch with a heavy heart.

And from the shadowed confines of his own bedroll, Aragorn Elessar lay with eyes wide open, and his mind reeling from her words.

Buffy, _his _Buffy, had just predicted her own death…

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Hollin, 3019 TA, January 9.

Early the next morning, hours before the sun was even up, Gandalf sent Boromir and Aragorn off to scout out the area. Their usual rivalry was strangely absent, due to Boromir's silence and Aragorn's thoughts were not on the man of Gondor, but on one courageous woman who had nearly shocked the life out of him the evening before.

Aragorn knew next to nothing about the things that haunted Buffy's past. She had never been forthcoming about her life before she came to Middle Earth, and out of respect for her; people, he included, had respected her right to her privacy.

But could he truly justify leaving her be when her life was at stake? His feelings toward her may have been a confused mess of different emotions, but he did know that it would be a heavy blow, perhaps too heavy, to him if she walked out of his life.

Through his arguments with Gandalf over the company's course, he had gleaned that the Istar (wizard) meant to stop for supplies and shelter in the Golden Wood of Lothlórien. After hearing Buffy's revelation, he could not have been more glad.

He knew that the powerful Lady of the Wood cared deeply for the bright young slayer, and would be an important ally to help her with her troubles. He might no longer be Arwen's betrothed, but he did not think that the Lady would turn him away because of that. If anything, she should be happier to see him than she had been before. But he desperately needed her advice with regards to Buffy.

Aragorn knew that if he kept pushing Buffy, she would run when he got too close. And he could not allow that. While he had patience to wait her out in regards to other things, he could not take risks with her life, as she was too apt to do.

He may not have known about her past exploits but Galadriel, Lady of Lórien was in Buffy's confidence, and if anyone knew what danger stalked Buffy, it would be her.

He only hoped that they could make it that long.

It was because of this distraction that Aragorn did not sense the danger until Boromir cried out that it was upon them. "Ranger!" the man of Gondor shouted, drawing his sword, "Troll!"

Aragorn's head shot up and he found the speed to duck just before the troll's crude hammer-like blade separated his head from his body.

Rolling along the ground, he managed to pull out Andúril, and jumped to his feet after scanning the area for Boromir. The man of Gondor was engaging the three orcs who had apparently been charged with fetching the troll, and so was too engaged to deal with the one livid hill troll that Aragorn found charging him.

Raising the blade, he resigned himself to the fact that help from Boromir was out, and frantically wracked his brain to remember how to kill a hill troll, without actually being able to reach said creature's weak spots.

As Andúril bit into the troll's leg, it let out a roar that nearly deafened the ranger, and he hoped that no one else had heard that else the company be found, but he had no time for such concerns now.

The fight was on.

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Contrary to Aragorn's opinion, other people _did _hear the troll's pained bellow. Buffy, having been alerted to trouble over the Buffy-dar - a nuisance she had steadily grown to despise over the years - and Legolas's sharp hearing was unable to miss the roar.

Running a quick check to make sure she had all her weapons and that Galadriel's gift of the mithril shirt was on properly, she pulled the Elf aside. "Aragorn's up to his neck in trouble, so I'm guessing Boromir is too, unless they've killed each other already. I know what your feelings towards the Dwarf are but grow up, and act like an immortal adult for a change! The hobbits can't be left unguarded, so fill Gimli and Gandalf in, - politely Greenleaf! - while I go see what the two morons have landed themselves into, okay?"

Legolas grabbed her arm ere she could turn away, "Are you up to this?" he asked, "I know that you are weary. Would it not be better if I were to go instead?"

"Frodo needs your bow, Legolas. You shoot first, ask questions later, and I'll do what I do best. - pulverise things. I'm the slayer. I've gone out to face Big Bads half-dead; lack of sleep isn't going to be a problem! Now, I've got to go! Fill them in, Legolas!" she said as she left, leaving the Elf to trudge over to the curious wizard and the Dwarf who was eyeing him with disgust to try to explain things.

Running across the uneven ground, Buffy opened herself to her senses and let herself be guided by the Buffy-dar. She had tried to break the connection before, but it had not worked. Even Galadriel had tried to break the link, and if the Lady of the Wood wasn't able to do it, there were none in Middle Earth who could. And so Buffy had resigned herself to forever being able to sense Aragorn, but never have him the way she wanted to. As she had tried to get over her feelings for the man, the bond had always been an unwanted reminder and a nuisance, but usually upon reflection, she always remembered its usefulness at helping her keep the fool alive.

But by Eru, she wished he could stop getting himself into daredevil life threatening trouble on such a regular basis!

Swiftly spotting the scene of trouble, purely from the direction of the grunting and roaring, Buffy arrived into the mess to find three dead orcs, and Boromir and Aragorn trying to avoid being crushed to death by a troll.

Apparently they were only now figuring out why it was that swords against a twelve foot troll didn't really work.

Boromir was the first to spot her, and he called, "You should not be here! There is a troll!"

"A big guy, hammer thingy?" Buffy said, "Yeah, I think I noticed him."

She was about to jump into the fray when Aragorn was flung back and landed on top of her. Literally. And when he was a bit too slow to get off, she elbowed him off her and then helped him up, "Good thing I stopped by and heard screaming." she teased, "You two are hopeless."

Aragorn didn't bother to reply, only grumbled, and Buffy, seeing that Boromir was in danger of being crushed, decided to save the chatter until after she'd dealt with the great big ugly hill troll.

Running in, she jumped onto the troll's back, ignoring the horrible smell, and stabbed her sword into the soft spot underneath its jaw several times. With her agility, she was able to cling onto the bucking troll in a way the men could never do.

As the hill troll fell to the ground, Buffy removed her sword, and said, "Time for the interrogation!"

Aragorn looked at her, "You speak the Black Speech?!" he exclaimed, knowing that most trolls understood little else when they were in the Dark Lord's service.

Buffy grinned slightly at him, "Oh yeah but the Californian version." She said as she slammed the creature's head against the stony ground, "Now listen here you big stinky creep, I want answers and I want them _now_. If you refuse to answer, you are going to die a very slow and painful death. Now what's it gonna be?"

The troll just gargled at her and died, "It is so annoying when they can't understand my puns." Buffy complained, "Now we can't even find out what the hell it was doing here. By the way, are you two okay? Not that the 'we were dragged through a bush backwards' look doesn't suit you, but just wondering."

Aragorn only glared at her, Boromir just stared, "I hardly think that being travel worn and dirty after a fight with orcs and a troll gives you the right to laugh at us, Dagnir. Remember the twins told me about Elrond's attempts to make you into a lady," he reminded her threateningly.

Buffy's eyes widened and she backed off rapidly, "Okay, laying off it now. Let's get back to camp. By now, everyone should be wondering what you guys did this time."

Shrugging in the face of Boromir's perplexed expression, Aragorn decided to just do as he was bid, and he followed his lady back towards the camp, trying to figure out how to bribe her to keep this incident from the twins, and more importantly the hobbits.

----------

Later that afternoon, when the excitement of the day's adventure had died down, the hobbits, two of them at least, were eager to learn how to be a warrior, and to wield the swords they had gotten from the Barrow-downs on the edge of the Shire, the swords of Westernesse.

"But Boromir!" Pippin pleaded, "We are big hobbits, now. We can handle it! Please teach us! Please, please, please!!"

Merry also joined in with Pippin's whining, , until at last Boromir gave in to their combined chant of 'please, please, please'.

"Do you know how to use that thing?" Buffy asked Pippin, who looked perplexed for a moment.

"Of course." Pippin replied cheerfully, "The pointy end goes into the other guy." Buffy just burst out laughing and Boromir just shook his head and let out a long suffering sigh.

As Boromir started the thankless task that was bound to be teaching two hyper hobbits how to handle deadly blades, Buffy detached herself from the group when she noticed that Frodo was alone at the edge of the camp, and for once, his friend, Samwise Gamgee, was not with him.

"Hey Frodo," Buffy greeted him quietly, sitting down on a rock beside him, "You're looking a little down. What's up?"

It took a moment for the hobbit to decipher her speech, but he did not seem eager to answer and so Buffy had to take the initiative again. "I know how you feel, you know," she began, "You've probably no idea why you deserved to have this burden dropped into your lap; you're thinking you're crazy for actually agreeing to do it in the first place; you're scared of what the Ring is; you probably think that there's no way in Arda you can actually do this; and to top it all off, you've probably got this sinking feeling that you're in way over your head. Am I close?"

Frodo looked at her, startled, "How did you ---? How do you know ---?" he said in absolute puzzlement.

"How do I know what you're feeling?" Buffy answered for him, "Let's just say that when I was fifteen, a calling to be a warrior landed in my lap. I was young, naïve, knew nothing about the dark things of the world. And suddenly, here was this guy, telling me that it was my responsibility to kill all these monsters, that I was the only one who could. The worst thing was the whole chasing death thing. People with my calling didn't live longer than a few years. And it was hard; having to fight everyday, always having to hide what I was, always having to risk death to stop what others didn't even know about, and then I lost everything because of it, - friends, family, my very life. I know hell because I've been there, Frodo Baggins. I've seen pure evil, and I've seen things that I had no hope of beating. I know what you're going through because I lived it, - I'm still living it. And I know that if you keep it bottled up, it's not gonna work. It'll come out sometime, usually the worst time possible."

While Frodo didn't understand this woman's background, he saw her sincerity in what she was saying, and decided to risk trusting her, "I don't know if I can do this; the Ring is so heavy, and the risk so great. If I were to fail, what then?"

"But you don't have a choice," Buffy said gently, "Oftentimes those who have to fight, never get a choice in anything. But if you go in there thinking you're going to fail, you will. You have to believe that you'll do it, that you'll destroy it, or else there's no point going on."

"In my heart, I know that." Frodo said, "But the Ring, it calls to me. And this land, it does not help. There are… echoes of something, I do not know what. I think the Ring was made here or something."

Buffy shot him a sideways glance, appraising the halfling, "The Ring was made in Mount Doom, in Mordor. But you are right, the other Rings of Power were all made here, and there was a great war here long ago."

"These were Elven lands then," Frodo spoke up, remembering some of the history that Bilbo had imparted to him, "That's why the land still remembers them, it mourns them."

Buffy shivered at his accurate words, and agreed, "There was a great battle, a slaughter, here long ago. A battle between the armies of Sauron and the Elves of Eregion. They laid waste to the Elven realm, and now it has faded into dust. But their blood still stains the ground. This land is cursed. And shall remain so until the folly that was their doom is destroyed. The land recognises its bane."

"Then that is why my sleep is so much more plagued here?" Frodo asked.

"Yes," the slayer replied, "These lands will make anyone's heart heavy, but for you, I think you'll be glad when we're outta here.

Frodo watched his kin for a moment, and then he nudged Buffy, "Watch these two." he said nodding towards Merry and Pippin.

"Are they gonna do something?" Buffy asked, "Because I really haven't been treated to such brutal swordplay in years. I tend to be a critic that way."

She watched Boromir laugh as he thought the hobbits, and laughed herself when he accidentally hit Pippin. "Ahhh!" the young hobbit cried, dancing from foot to foot and glaring at Boromir.

The man of Gondor had to stifle laughter in order to look properly contrite, "Sorry!" he gasped out.

Pippin looked affronted, and after sharing a telling look with Merry, cried, "Get him!" and kicking Boromir in the shin, he tackled the warrior.

His friend happily pitched in to the hilarious scene, calling his own battle cry as Boromir tried to fight them off without hurting them, "Arr, ow... For the Shire!"

"Hold him! Hold him down, Merry!" Pippin cried, tickling Boromir into fits of laughter.

Merry squealed as Pippin accidentally grabbed his friend, "You've got my arm! You've got my arm! Let go, Pippin!"

Frodo was laughing and Buffy was in hysterics, while even Aragorn looked like he'd choked on pipe smoke as he took in the scene.

But alas the merriment was not to continue, and as the two youngest hobbits continued to wrestle with Boromir, Legolas's eyes were drawn to a shadow in the sky.

----------

Even as Legolas moved to get a better view, Buffy froze as warning skitters raced up her spine. It did not take long for their unease to spread to the others.

"What is that?" Sam asked, looking up from the business of cooking 'tators' and meat stew, and seeing Legolas on a high perched boulder in front of him. "Master Legolas, what is it?"

Gimli gave the cloud like thing a scathing glance, and decided that if Legolas was concerned about it, then it was not worth his while, "Nothing." the Dwarf scoffed, "It is just a wisp of cloud."

Boromir, having managed to get a hobbit pinned under each arm, loosened his hold to look at the sky, and as his eyes widened, he released Merry and Pippin, and moved closer to Buffy's position. "It's moving fast. Against the wind."

Buffy didn't hesitate to agree with him, "He's right. They're some little critters of Sauron's. I can feel it."

Legolas at last recognised this phenomenon for what it was, "Crebain from Dunland!" he cried, leaping down off the rock.

Aragorn immediately let out a bellow, "HIDE!" he cried.

Boromir scooped up Merry and Pippin and dragged them under an overhanging bush, encasing them in its folds, while Aragorn grabbed Frodo as the others scattered, grabbing their things to hide as they did so. "Frodo! Hurry! Take cover!" Aragorn cried, pulling him with him.

Buffy helped Sam put out the fire, and watched as the hobbit carefully took his frying pan with him as he dove for cover. Grabbing her own cloak from the ground, Buffy crawled in beside Boromir and the hobbits, waiting with bated breath for the Crebain to come.

The birds swept through the rocky area, screeching madly and searching so thoroughly as if they knew that they were there. Buffy, carefully pulled out her compact crossbow from her pack, and took aim, in case any of the birds found them. But after a few long minutes that seemed like an eternity, the birds gave up and taking flight to the higher skies once more, wheeled away back towards where they had come from.

After a few more minutes of waiting to ensure they would not come back, the Fellowship tumbled out of their hiding places, various bits of grass and bush clinging to them.

Buffy was grim, and she was not the only one. "We are so busted," she said, brushing leaves off of her clothes.

"Quite," Boromir agreed, helping Merry and Pippin out.

Aragorn and Gandalf shared a silent, searching look and then the wizard spoke heavily, "Spies of Saruman I am afraid," he said, "Then the passage south is being watched. We must take the pass of Caradhras."

Buffy was not oblivious to his dark tone as he said that. Gandalf didn't expect the snowy passes of the Mountains to be any safe haven for them either.

She could only hope they wouldn't have to seek a darker route.

------------

__

Near Caradhras, 3019 TA, January 10.

On the third morning since they entered Hollin, Caradhras rose before them, a mighty peak, tipped with snow like silver, but with sheer naked sides, dull red as if stained with blood.

Buffy was freezing, and a headache seemed to have settled in permanently thanks to the combined insult fest of Legolas and Gimli. It was starting to snow, and her cloak just didn't seem to be doing its job at keeping out the chill.

Beside her trudged Merry, and the cold seemed to have frozen even his mischief, an admirable task for anything to manage. But by Eru, she wished the Elf and Dwarf would stop with the sniping!

If it wasn't the subtle glaring or underhanded pranks, it was coldly hostile behaviour, and of course, the outright fighting and insulting that they liked so much.

And while Buffy has initially been amused, she was now fit to kill them.

"Stupid prancy Elf," Gimli grumbled under his breath, "Dancing about on top of the snow like a squirrel! Can they not do anything useful? Like throw themselves off a cliff?"

Of course Legolas heard though, "At least I do not sink like a rock, Master Dwarf, perhaps you are too much overweight to deal with snow."

Seeing Gimli's hand clench around his axe, Buffy decided to intervene before things escalated, "You guys, don't forget to breathe between insults!" she called, "You're supposed to play nice you two!"

"Be quiet Buffy!" Legolas snapped.

While at the same time, Gimli snarled at her, "This is between me and the Elf, lass! Keep out of it!"

Buffy's expression darkened, and now she was the one grumbling under her breath, "I swear, if those two don't kill each other, I might lend a hand."

"I do not think Gandalf would like that," Merry added helpfully.

Buffy just glared at the hobbit, why was she now getting hit from all sides? "Why me?" She muttered to no one in particular. "Don't you even dare answer that!" she snapped, when she saw the cheeky hobbit about to do just that.

But the hobbit was not done with her yet, and he began in the too innocent tone he was known for, "Buffy, why are you not married? Aragorn said you were over sixty years old!"

Buffy raised an eyebrow, her stance telling him exactly what she thought of that idea. "Did he now?" she said dangerously, "He'll have to die for that. Broadcasting a woman's age is never a good idea. But in answer to your question, believe me, I'm not that grown-up."

Merry was not finished though, "Why do you and Aragorn not get married?" he asked.

Buffy came to a very abrupt halt, and Merry's eyes lit up wickedly at getting a reaction, and just as he was about to say something even more scandalous, Buffy slapped a hand over his mouth, eliciting a high pitched squeal from the hobbit.

"Buffy!" Aragorn called, "Can you shut him up ere we are heard by all and sundry?"

"Not so far." Buffy replied dryly, "But don't worry, I will." Looking intently at the hobbit, the slayer pinned him under her gaze. "I don't care what your opinion of eavesdropping is, but if you ever repeat what you just said, I _will_ follow through on my threat and put you on the most miserable diet you can't even imagine. Aragorn is engaged to the Lady Arwen. Remember that before I get mean! Got it?"

The hobbit nodded, and Buffy finally removed her hand, "Good, 'cos we're making camp, and if I know the others, this should be very entertaining."

-------

__

The base of Caradhras, 3019 TA, January 10.

As Buffy had predicted, almost immediately after setting up the camp, Aragorn and Gandalf disappeared into a secluded spot to argue.

"Winter deepens behind us," Gandalf said quietly to Aragorn, "The heights away north are whiter than they were; snow is lying far down their shoulders. Tonight we shall be on our way high up towards the Redhorn Gate. We may well be seen by watchers on that narrow path, and waylaid by some evil; but the weather may prove a more deadly enemy than any. What do you think of your course now, Aragorn?"

Buffy and Legolas clearly overheard their words and sighed as they realised that it was Moria vs. the Mountain round one billion.

"I think no good of out course from beginning to end, as you know well Gandalf," answered Aragorn, his eyes haunted as he remembered his and Buffy's ordeal in those cursed mines, "And perils known and unknown will grow as we go on. But we must go on; and it is no good delaying our passage of the mountains. Farther south there are no passes, till one comes to the Gap of Rohan. I do not trust that way since your news of Saruman. Who knows which side now the marshals of the Horse-lords serve?"

"Who knows indeed!" said Gandalf, just as tired of this argument as the ranger was, "But there is another way, and not by the pass of Caradhras; the dark and secret way that we have spoken of."

"But let us not speak of it again! Not yet! Say nothing to the others, I beg, not until it is plain there is no other way." Aragorn pleaded, "The memories are too dark."

"We must decide before we go further," Gandalf warned. "You know this Aragorn."

"Then let us weigh the matter in our minds, while the others rest and sleep." Aragorn said, "Because I will not dare enter the Mines of Moria until all other options have been exhausted."

Gandalf backed off after that, and after a long while of quiet thinking, the ranger went to Buffy, and sat down beside her. "Gandalf talks of risking Moria," he said without preamble.

Buffy was not overly surprised, "Well, since we're already going to the biggest hell-hole in the world, why not visit the number two top demon destination while we're at it?" she said sarcastically.

"I fear what we may find there." Aragorn said quietly.

"I fear what I already know is there," Buffy replied, "But it's not as if we have a great choice, Aragorn, we are sworn to go with the ringbearer."

He sighed heavily, "I know, but I feel it will be Gandalf's doom if he enters those accursed mines."

"It may prove to be all our dooms," Buffy said, "Demons like the dark places of the world and without doubt, Moria is definitely the black pit of its name." the slayer spotted the wizard looking around for the ranger and nudged him, "Gandalf is looking for you, go!" she said, and watched as the wizard and ranger once more entered into heavy debate.

'Twas late afternoon when Gandalf approached the fellowship with the decision on their route. It was to be the pass of Caradhras and Gandalf was insistent that they make for it with all speed. "From signs that have been seen lately," Gandalf said, "I fear that the Redhorn gate may be watched; and also I have doubts of the weather that is coming up behind. We must go with all the speed that we can. Even so it will take us more than two marches before we reach the top of the pass. Dark will come early this evening. We must leave as soon as you can get ready."

"I will add a word of advice, if I may," said Boromir, speaking up and looking at the hobbits with a worried expression, "I was born under the shadow of the White Mountains and know something of journeys in the high places. We shall meet bitter cold, if no worse, before we come down on the other side. It will not help us to keep our secret that we are frozen to death. When we leave here, where there are still few trees and bushes, each of us should carry a faggot of wood, as large as he can bear."

"Very well," said Gandalf, looking none too happy, "But we must not use the wood - not unless it is a choice between fire and death."

"And what about frostbite?" Buffy muttered sourly, not exactly fond of snow drifts up to her neck.

But if she really wanted to admit the truth to herself, she would have had to admit that it wasn't the cold form the snow that was chilling her to the core, but a sinking chill stemming from fear of what was happening.

Even the wind howled it to her ears, "From beneath you it devours…."

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**A/N:** Well? Feedback welcome and appreciated! Please READ and REVIEW!!!!

_Next chapter:_ the fellowship are being hunted… wizards are at war… and they have their first real meeting with the servants of Sauron…._Elvish:_

Dagnir - slayer

Mellon nín - my friend

Meldiren - my friend

Adar - father

Pen dithen - little one

Elessar - Elf-stone

Istar - wizard

Andúril - Flame of the West

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_Eregion _- an Elven realm of the Second Age. Celebrimbor forged the Three Elven Rings here. Sauron laid waste to the city and its people, taking all the rings of power, and killing Celebrimbor and using his body as a banner.

_Istari_ - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

_Mithril_ - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

_Moria_ - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

_The First - _aka. The First Evil. Buffy's greatest enemy. Had no corporeal form but relied on mind games to terrorise its victims. Buffy was inadvertently responsible for its release into the world. The First was responsible for the deaths of countless potential slayers, and several attempts on Buffy's life.('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)   
«´¨ Asha D ¨»   
(¸.·'´(¸.·'´ '·.¸)' ·.¸)   
¸.·´   
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	28. Any Old Part In A Storm Part 1

**FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER**

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but the plot.

**Summary:** BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

**Author's** **notes:** thanks for all your lovely reviews! I am sorry for the shortness of this chapter, as it is incomplete, but I'm smothering with the flu and I've been too sick to write much at all. So I'm only posting what I have done of this chapter to date and I'll try to have the rest up by early next week.

_Review responses:_

_Allen Pitt -_ yes, neither Legolas or Buffy know that Aragorn's not betrothed anymore. And no, there will be no appearances from Angel. But good bit of analysis on the bond, I've been having fun plotting that out actually! And no, Buffy and Aragorn don't know that Balin's colonisation attempt failed. Buffy and Aragorn were in the mines in 2985 TA, whereas Balin didn't leave Erebor for Moria until 2989 TA, so no, they don't know how the Dwarves fared.

_Anna -_ thanks! :) no, Merry doesn't know anything about Aragorn and Buffy, he's just teasing her.

_Black Phoenyx_ - glad to know that you found it amusing. And I know, this fic is growing to epic proportions! Over 200,000 words! And start the LotR fic, what's stopping you? And don't you think that if I warn them, that I'll scare them away?

_Boo_ - it referred to a lot of things. But you're not too far off.

_ChibiChibi_ - Darker? Well, not really intentionally. That's just the way war works. And are you pleased or annoyed that I've followed the story line?

_Draco's Slytherin Vampiress_ - power always tempts. And do you really think I'm going to tell you how this turns out?

_DragonStar_ - people seem to be noticing those mistakes. (sighs) it seems that I just can't get them all… if you want to edit the chapters after I post them, (to save any delay) I would be delighted for you to do so. Just drop me an e-mail.

_Dramaswimer _- the only flaw? I thought the fact that there was no sequel as flaw enough. Alas…. And sorry, can't have an extra chapter. I have SIX tests this week! SIX!!!!

_Eámanë Aldaríon_ - welcome back mellon nín! I missed you! And don't worry, there will be a sequel and I've got an evil, EVIL idea for one! And yeah, the temptation for Elrond to use Vilya must have been massive. Boromir was a toddler when Buffy left Gondor and because Denethor hated her guts, they wouldn't have met often so he doesn't actually remember her but he sure has heard of her! Yes, the tables turning on Buffy and Aragorn would be interesting! Untriangled? Meldiren, watch that space… and never underestimate Arwen. Elrond may think he's safe but he's going to get a shock or two! And about Erestor.. Well if you think about Elrond has had to put up with Elladan and Elrohir for three thousand years. Why wouldn't he like a bit of pay back? Yes, her slayer heritage is a key point in why Buffy is so drawn to the ring. Dark calling to dark and all that jazz. And I wouldn't say the Ring was worse than the First, as we never saw the First really unleashed and corporeal as it would have been if it had succeeded in its plans, but the Ring is insidious in its own special way. And you're right, she can't avoid the bad guys forever. And yes, Gandalf is kinda like a Giles figure, with all the crankyness and mentoring. And the scene with his death will be pivotal. Thanks for your great review! Námarië!

_Fairieangel_ - I'm always happy to welcome a newcomer. Thanks for the great review!

_FallenStar2_ - yes, Aragorn's denial is slowly subsiding. And about Eregion, thanks! Also, Buffy's prediction is supposed to give chills so I guess I'm doing something right. And the tension is building? How right you are. Bet none of you guess what I've got planned for the big climax though!

_goldenshadows_ - who knows?

_Haley_ - it's from the 'Mask of Zorro'. a little pop culture referencing never hurt anybody! And how long am I going to leave Buffy and Legolas hanging? Gee, that's a very good question. Pity I'm not answering! :)

_harmoni9_ - thanks! I'm always glad to see a convert.

_Kit-Kat_ - there's a lot of lurkers around this site. And here's a hint, of course I'm planning to do something evil! And as to how the lovebirds come to the same wavelength, I can't say. I know what you mean about stories being hard to find. I have maybe 5 good ones that I'm waiting and haven't updated in months!

_Lilly_ - it's so nice to know that I can have that effect on people! And finding a way to save Boromir might not be hard though.

_Lizdarcy2_ - three words. Gandalf. Must. Die. Explanations at a later date.

_Lunawolf_ - not quite Moria next, but soon. And are you trying to find out the odds on Buffy or something? :)

_Mari_ - if Buffy butted in, someone's bones would have been broken. Good guess on my little teaser!

_MiShA_ - Aragorn is definitely way too stupid for his own good.

_Ms8309_ - are you ever going to actually say anything?

_organized-chaos_ - but salmon is stinky! The freezing idea has potential though…

_Phoenix83ad_ - hi! I really don't think that Buffy is ever invincible in the way some writers portray her so I totally agree with you there. In my opinion, Buffy's emotions are her strongest asset, and also her weakest. It's always where her smart enemies hit her, and the blows tend to send her reeling. So I thought the Ring would be more than adequate to torment her, as she is descended from a demon through the First Slayer. And as for the Gandalf thing; - well the pressure is starting to mount on everybody, especially the slayer and Frodo. What will happen in Moria? … Madness….

_restive nature_ - :) thanks! I hope you get better soon!

_ShawThang_ - yes, prophecies like chasing Buffy. And yes, Buffy and Legolas's reactions to Aragorn's new status should be interesting!

_Sierra-Falls_ - the warning is meant to bug and confuse. And you're forgetting the most major evil, to some, that has plagued Buffy's steps since she was Called.

_Sparky24_ - wait and see…

_Star_ - you're not supposed to know what to make of it. Okay, neither Buffy or Aragorn like talking about their time in Moria because it's scary, painful and so not nice to think about. And Buffy was talking about the time she previously caught the hobbits eavesdropping on her, they didn't overhear anything else unfortunately. Yet.

_And major thanks to:_

_Brittany, clcountry, Imp17, Karen, LizaGirl, Night-Owl123, Tiamante Salazar Tameran, Wild320,_

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: ANY OLD PORT IN A STORM PART ONE

"If all else fails, there's always hope, faith and blind luck!"

- unknown

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Caradhras, 3019 TA, January 11.

It was definitely a sombre group that trudged up the steep and snowy mountain, and Buffy found herself having a slight concentration problem due to a certain event.

While Frodo was walking ahead of her; having a sharp eye kept on him in case he stumbled in the deep drifts, it appeared that someone had decided to do the same for her.

She honestly wasn't sure whether to be touched or insulted that the ranger was poised to help her out of any snow drifts in which her lack of height might prove a problem, much like Gandalf had asked Boromir to do for Gimli and Pippin.

"So tell me," Buffy said, "Do you do this for all the girls? Or just the short ones?"

For a moment, Aragorn looked surprised at being so suddenly addressed but he recovered with a trademark smirk, "The twins told me of your ever so graceful tumble down that hill, Dagnir (slayer), so I decided that 'twould be wise to keep an eye on you."

"They told you, did they?" Buffy murmured dangerously, "I hope you know that I deny everything and if you ever repeat that again I will be obliged to rip out your tongue?"

Aragorn tried and failed to hide a snicker, "You have such a way with words, meldiren (my friend), but alas, I shall have to think your threat true and be silent!"

"You're such a comedian, Aragorn," Buffy growled, "See me laugh. You're just _so_ hilarious. And in case it escapes your notice, I'm being sarcastic."

"When are you not, mellon?" (friend) Aragorn said, chuckling, "You deal out death threats every day without fail."

She stopped, placing her fisted hands on her hips and turned to give him a good scolding but before she could say anything, something slammed into her and she fell into and under a large snow drift.

Spluttering, she tried to paw her way up and was extremely grateful when she felt a strong hand wrap around hers and haul her out. "Are you well?" Aragorn asked, brushing the snow from her clothes and rubbing her hands within his to get some warmth in them.

Buffy blushed, "As well as can be expected from a walking snowman," she said with no little embarrassment, "But was that? I didn't realise they had boulders up this mountain."

Aragorn looked around and spotted the dark haired hobbit sitting up rather dazedly, "Frodo!" he exclaimed, going over to him and helping him up, placing his hands on his shoulders to steady him while the hobbit brushed snow off of himself.

But the trouble only began when Frodo started looking for the One Ring, which was no longer around his neck.

"It's missing!" Buffy cried, eyeing the huge field of snow in dismay, "Oh please do not tell me it's somewhere in that mess!"

A good twenty five feet above them on the mountain slope, Boromir found himself entranced by the glint of gold in the snow, and he reached down to pick up the chain as one who is mesmerised by what he sees.

To think that Middle Earth's future was bound up in such a small trinket! He wondered with no small amount of awe. To think that something so small could hold so much power. His eyes narrowed as he thought of how his homeland and his people could do with such power to protect their crumbling walls and defences but were denied at all turns. For once, could not the side of good profit from magic instead of the dark?

His fascination with the Ring did not go unnoticed.

From below, Aragorn quickly spotted the Ring in Boromir's grasp, and his hands slid from Frodo's shoulders with calm deliberation, going to the hilt of his sword. Beside him Buffy glanced worriedly between the two; it was one thing to force yourself to learn how to kill a servant of the Enemy but it was another thing entirely to contemplate harming one of your own comrades, and she did not know what to do.

"Boromir." Aragorn called cautiously, trying to jolt the man of Gondor into remembering his own pledge, his honour and the purpose of the quest.

But the man of Gondor seemed wholly taken in by the deceptively plain gold band.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing… Such a little thing." Boromir said, reaching out to touch the Ring itself with his left hand.

"Boromir!" Aragorn called again, "Give the Ring to Frodo."

Boromir looked up and lucidity seemed to return to him, and he walked slowly towards the ranger and the Ring-bearer, "As you wish." he said, holding out the Ring, which Frodo quickly snatched from him, "I care not." he said, laughing and ruffling Frodo's hair despite the halfling's obvious discomfort.

Buffy's eyes never left him, but they also strayed towards the Ring one too many times for own comfort. She shuddered as its voice came to her, '_Beware what lurks beneath the ground…._'

As he walked away, Aragorn's hand slowly slid off the hilt of his sword, watching the man as he rejoined the others.

A crisis had been averted.

For now.

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Approx. 2 - 3 hours later.

"Brr, I'm so very chilly." Buffy puffed out through the raging blizzard, as she numbly felt her extremities turn to ice. Apparently, slayers were only built to handle blizzards like normal people, which meant turning into giant ice cubes.

Aragorn turned to look at her at her words, trying to make her out through the snowstorm. What he could see was not looking good. Buffy's face was nearly swamped by her hood but he saw enough to see the blue tinge to her lips.

The hobbits, Buffy and Gimli were faring the worst out of the whole Fellowship. The hobbits had no shoes and had no height to help them fight their way through the blizzard, and Boromir was already supporting Merry and Pippin as they struggled to make their way up. Frodo, wracked by chills was scrambling alongside Gandalf and Sam, and even Legolas, who was lucky enough to have the ability to walk on top of the snow without sinking, had been drafted into helping his nemeses.

Gimli was hampered by his heavy armour, dragging him down with every step, and Legolas was the only one able to pull him out under these conditions, being in no danger of being dragged down with the Dwarf.

As for Buffy, she was faring only as well as the halflings, Aragorn noticed worriedly. Hindered by her own height and slight form, she was increasingly forced to scrabble through or over the gathering snow, exposing her unprotected hands to the harsh chill.

She was chattering visibly, and even knowing her independent streak, he knew he could not stand by and not help her. She would just have to get used to accepting help where it was needed.

Going to her, he looped an arm around her waist, helping her over another drift even as she turned to glare at him, "Do not give me that look Buffy," he reprimanded her, "You need help. It is cold out. I cannot just let you freeze."

"Yeah, this is a little thing we like to call winter, here." Buffy said sarcastically, but found herself leaning into his warm hold anyway. "You do realise this changes nothing, right?" she said.

Aragorn allowed himself a small smile of victory, "Of course Dagnir, you need no help at all," he said placidly, causing her eyes to narrow once more.

About half an hour of mind-numbing cold later, Legolas ran down to check on them, ""Okay, that is so cheating." Buffy snapped, wishing she could do the 'walk on snow' thingy.

Legolas was not exactly the most popular member of the fellowship right now, as everyone except Gandalf, had by now, joined in on the 'let's-glare-at-the-non-frozen-Elf' game.'

"Boromir has won the argument against Gandalf for us to seek shelter." Legolas said, keeping pace with them with an effortless ease that Buffy envied, "He says that the hobbits, and … others can go no further like this. You are to come up, all of us have to decide on what to you."

"Hey, us short people always get the short end of the stick! So lay off it mister!" Buffy said, not missing the significant look in her direction. "But it's nice to see that someone talked some sense into Gandalf before we all freeze out here!"

"But what shelter is he going to seek on this mountain?" Aragorn asked, "I have seen nothing that would keep us even halfway warm."

Legolas's expression was grim with worry; as an Elf he was unaffected by the cold and was in no danger of possibly dying from it, but all the others in the Fellowship were susceptible to the dangers of this deadly cold, and he knew that he could not help them to bear this burden in any way.

Struggling through the white banks, the trio finally reached the rest of the group, to find that Gandalf and Boromir were once more arguing over the next course of action.

"And what good will avail us of going on?" Boromir was saying, "'Tis no good to save time if we are dead ere we leave!"

Buffy butted in before the wizard could get chance to respond, "Listen, I'm cold, I'm cranky and I'm so not up to dealing with in-fighting right now. Boromir here has a point; most of us here are either only human or mortal. Agree with the man, Gandalf before I help him stuff your little pointed hat up yo---.."

Buffy's words were quickly muffled by Aragorn, who slapped a hand over her mouth, "I think we all agree with Boromir, Mithrandir. We cannot go on."

"Fine," The wizard said at last, thoroughly defeated, "Either stop where we are, or go back. It is no good going on. Only a little higher, if I remember rightly, this path leaves the cliff and runs into a wide shallow trough at the bottom of a long, hard slope. We should have no shelter there from snow, or stones - or anything else."

"And it is no good going back while the storm holds," Aragorn pointed out, "We have passed no place on the way up that offered more shelter than this cliff-wall we are under now."

"Shelter!" Sam muttered sourly, frozen to the bone, "If this is shelter, then one wall and no roof make a house!"

Buffy had to agree and could not help but grumble at the hotly contested meaning of the word 'shelter'. "But while you crazy wizards may actually like the drowned rat look I prefer to remain dry…" she muttered under her breath with a dark look in Gandalf's direction, only silencing herself when Legolas looked at her pointedly.

And so the Fellowship struggled on as the blizzard seemed to get harsher and the wind howled louder and louder until they were in danger of being blown away.

As the Fellowship settled down into their 'shelter' with their teeth chattering, and extremities going numb even as most agreed with Sam's caustic assessment of Gandalf's choice.

But Legolas pulled Aragorn aside ere they reached it, and tried to talk some sense into him, tried to remind him of his loyalties to Arwen, and trying to protect Buffy from being led on by Aragorn's actions, "I am glad that you are watching out for Buffy," the Elven Prince said quietly, "But I feel that I should remind you that she is not helpless and it is not your job to keep her safe."

Aragorn did not have any reply to that.

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As the day wore on, the blizzard worsened until it had grown to epic proportions. The snow piled up around them faster than they could clear it, and even to the less experienced members of the Fellowship it was obvious that unless something changed soon, they were in real danger of being buried alive.

The company were huddled together, with their backs against the cold and uncomfortable stone wall. The Hobbits were near buried and had to be rescued every ten minutes or so and Buffy, sick of having to be continuously hauled up by Aragorn, had plonked herself down in Legolas's lap, as he was the only one not sinking into the mound of snow.

Aragorn could only watch her with his friend with barely hidden envy, and he felt a resurgence of old suspicions as he watched the easy camaraderie they shared. He still did not know all the reasons behind Legolas's anger at him, though he had a fair idea, but he did not yet feel up to explaining the circumstances surrounding his dissolved betrothal when he had yet to fully sort out his own feelings. And so it was that there was also a figurative icy atmosphere between them that he did not know how to remedy without telling all.

His own teeth chattering, Boromir again decided to go head to head with Gandalf, standing as champion for the hobbits. "This will be the death of the halflings, Gandalf," he said firmly, trying to talk some sense into the wizard, "It is useless to sit here until the snow goes over our heads. We must do something to save ourselves."

"Totally agreeing with Boromir here," Buffy said, shivering.

In response, Gandalf only passed around a flask of miruvor, allowing them one precious sip each and temporarily warming them. But it was not enough.

"What do you say to fire?" asked Boromir suddenly, not backing down for a moment and not willing to lay his life in the hands of what he thought was a dangerously crazy wizard, "The choice seems now between fire and death, Gandalf. Doubtless we shall be hidden from all unfriendly eyes when the snow has covered us, but that will not help us if we are dead from it."

"You may make a fire, if you can," answered Gandalf, "If there are any watchers that can endure this storm, then they can see us, fire or no."

At that, Buffy just glared, "Light a fire in a blizzard? Sounds likely." she muttered but still, everyone had a go.

In succession, Boromir, Legolas and Gimli all tried to light a fire and all failed. The spark would not even catch, let alone hold out against the snow and wind.

"Gandalf! Come on!" Buffy gave out at last, "Let's make it very simple. No fire - no Fellowship. We'll only be little ice cubes who died from hypothermia! Now, I'm asking you very nicely to light the damn fire! Make with the mojo thing already!"

Gandalf glared at her tone, but as she was enthusiastically backed up by the entire fellowship, he had to give in.

Picking up a faggot of wood from Boromir's stockpile, he held it aloft for a moment, and then spoke his spell, "Naur an edraith ammen!" he cried, and then he banged on it with his staff. Almost immediately, a great gush of green and blue flame erupted from it, and at last the wet faggots of wood flared and sputtered into life.

At once, the fellowship crowded in around the blazing fire, glad for the warmth to thaw their frozen bones.

"If there are any to see, then I at least am revealed to him," Gandalf said heavily, "I have written 'Gandalf is here' in signs that all can read from Rivendell to the mouths of Anduin. There can be no mistaking it."

"Gandalf," Buffy said, "They already know we've left Rivendell for the south. Now, as we can't fly, that leaves a limited number of options to get there, and if they're smart - which they are - they'd have everywhere watched. Chances are they already know where we are, what we carry and our general direction. We couldn't expect to hide from them forever. They _know_ we're coming."

No one could argue with that.

----------

When the blizzard eased some, and all the wood had been burned to fuel the fire, the fellowship were forced to go on.

But even as they struggled to make it up the mountain, the blizzard picked up again; as if the very mountain itself did not want them there, and they were hard pressed to keep going.

Legolas had taken the foremost position as he was best able to warn the others of the dangers that were in front of them. Aragorn and Boromir had been forced to take two hobbits a piece, as they could not manage against the wind and the heavily falling snow anymore.

Buffy struggled on in their wake, and when she first heard the voice upon the air, she tried to speed up to get to Gandalf, but Legolas had also noticed it and spoke up first, "There is a fell voice on the air!" he cried. Gandalf and Buffy's heads snapped up at his warning, knowing that if they all could feel it, it was deadly serious.

Gandalf paused for a moment even as Buffy puffed to a halt behind him; listening to the air for a moment ere his eyes widened, "It is Saruman!" he cried, brandishing his staff, and that shout was scarcely warning enough for the fellowship to dodge the multitude of boulders that suddenly fell atop of them.

Aragorn tried to shield Frodo and Sam from the falling rocks, "He is trying to bring down the mountain! Gandalf, we must turn back!" he yelled, his voice nearly being carried away by the gale force winds.

But Gandalf refused to give up and turn around, and stood his ground, "No!" he roared and stepped forward, crying out in the Elvish tongue to try to reverse Saruman's sorcery, "Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith!" (Sleep Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath.)

Buffy clung to the rocks of the mountain ledge to avoid the worst of the wind, feeling the power struggle between the two Istari. A struggle neither could truly win as the mountain had a will of its won and it did _not_ like the intruders that were causing it to fall apart. They would get no help from Caradhras. They _had_ to turn back. The mountain would not tolerate this for much longer. "Gandalf!" she cried desperately, "We must turn back! The mountain is going to bury us if we stay here much longer!"

Gandalf did not acknowledge her and his spell words did nothing but anger the mountain further, and a bolt of lightning hit the mountain, bringing down an avalanche of snow and rocks.

Gandalf, perched on the edge of the cliff, was only barely hauled to safety by Legolas before the avalanche crashed down around them with a deafening roar.

Buffy felt the snow impact and god knows how much of it piled up on top of her before she felt the vibrations of rock hitting rock stop. Trapped in a maze of dizzying whiteness, she couldn't tell which way was up and could only trust in her instincts as she started to claw her way up to the surface, praying that she was not only digging herself into her own cold grave.

Legolas was the first to emerge from the new blanket of snow, having been able to dodge the heaviest of the fall and he brought Gandalf up with him, having been clutching at the wizard as the avalanche tumbled down around them.

Boromir and Aragorn popped up next, nearly choking on snow and each hauling two bedraggled and terrified halflings with them. And then Gimli emerged, grumbling at the wear his poor armour was going through with snow stuck in every crevice.

But Aragorn was the first to notice that Buffy had yet to surface. His heart beginning to race faster in panic, he shouted out for her, "Buffy! Where are you?" he cried, "Buffy!"

By now, the others had noticed that she had yet to come up and joined in the search but for some reason, Aragorn was consistently drawn back to one particular spot. He knew not how he knew, but there was something telling him that she was there, something urging him onwards and so he scrabbled around in the snow until he came into contact with another, smaller cold hand.

Buffy could not help but sigh in relief as she felt a hand wrap around hers, helping her up and reassuring her that she had chosen the right way. Half climbing and being half dragged, she was hauled up and nearly collapsed into Aragorn's arms from sheer relief.

As he reassured himself that she was safe, Aragorn looked at her pale face and his heart thudded with fear that anything could have happened to her. Especially before he got any chance to express his feelings towards her, feelings that were growing and deepening with every passing day.

"We must get off the mountain!" Boromir called, striving to be heard over the wind, " We must make for the Gap of Rohan! Or take the west road to my city!"

Aragorn shook his head in disagreement, "The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" he replied. "We cannot go that way!"

Gimli had his own protests to add, "We cannot pass over the mountain. Let us go under it! Let us go through the Mines of Moria! My cousin, Balin, shall give us a fine welcome!"

"I wouldn't touch Moria with a ten foot pole!" Buffy rejoined, her throat raw and sore from inhaling way too much snow than any once Californian girl should.

Gandalf seemed undecided but Aragorn spotted the cunning light in his eyes and knew that the crafty wizard was looking for a way to get his own choice passed by the fellowship. "Let the Ring-bearer decide... Frodo?"

Frodo looked startled at having to make such a choice and seemed to shy away from all the eyes looking at him, "We will go through the mines." he said at last.

"So be it." Gandalf decreed and Aragorn tried to bore holes in the Istar with his glare.

At Aragorn's blatant disapproval, the wizard looked to Buffy for help, "You're a wizard. Get yourself out of it." she told him, "I'm agreeing with the ranger. Moria doesn't bring anything but nightmares and death."

"Is that not we were sent out to face?" Gandalf reminded her, and she couldn't dispute that logic.

Death was apparently going to come for them at every turn.

And there was nothing they could do to stop it.

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**A/N:** So? Feedback always welcome and wanted! Please READ and REVIEW!!!!

_Next chapter:_ The fellowship meet more trouble…. Their path is decided…and they get their first encounter with the weapons Sauron has at his disposal….

_Elvish:_Dagnir - slayer

Meldiren - my friend

Mellon - friend

Mithrandir - Grey Pilgrim

Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i 'ruith! - Sleep Caradhras, be still, lie still, hold your wrath.

Istar - wizard

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_Istari_ - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

_Miruvor_ - the cordial of the Eldar.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)   
«´¨ Asha D ¨»   
(¸.·'´(¸.·'´ '·.¸)' ·.¸)   
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	29. Any Old Port In A Storm Part 2

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Here's part two of the last chapter! I'm still sick so be grateful that you got this so quick! And it's longer too! And the next chapter should be up around Saturday.

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Review responses:

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Anna - yes, the misunderstanding between Legolas, Aragorn and Buffy is ripe for plots. Yes, the bond is starting to go both ways, but then again it has done so before. Reunion between the Balrog and Buffy? You make it sound like a school dance! But Moria is chapter 30.

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Boo - ok, kinky? Quirky I can understand but _kinky_? Explain please.

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ChibiChibi - thanks! I do try to keep Buffy's slang as it is an integral part of her character. She can talk 'proper' when she has to but she just doesn't want to.

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Dragonstar - ok, thanks, but your e-mail address is incomplete. Are you with Yahoo or something? Mine is (just remove spaces) caliaerin yahoo . Co. uk. And sadly, I'm Irish so I don't celebrate 'turkey day'.

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FallenStar2 - thanks! And you wouldn't, would you? And as for Gandalf dying, well I was planning on sticking to canon… mostly anyway… and there's never anything wrong with a bit of mayhem now and then…

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Imp17 - too true. Aragorn doesn't need anyone else to get into trouble!

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Lunawolf - Gandalf did see that, but Aragorn didn't want to go to Moria so he compromised and tried the mountain first.

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Malfeus - thanks! And I don't mind repetition!

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Phoenix83ad - mutiny? Hmmm, could have been an idea. Yes, Aragorn's starting to feel the bond though he doesn't know it yet. And the 'Gandalf. Must. Die' wasn't meant to send warm fuzzies. And yes, the Boromir lives or dies issue is a conflicting one is it. If he dies, Faramir gets all the glory, but if he lives, what happens? You'll just have to wait and see though, won't you?

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Sabia - Gandalf knows that the fellowship need to disappear before they are caught and that's why he's pushing so hard for Moria.

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Star - Moria was to have been the next chapter but because I had to split this chapter due to illness, it'll be chapter 30. When will Aragorn tell? Wait and see. But Lórien is a good guess.

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Tiamante Salazar Tameran - of course you should be worried. And Aragorn will tell eventually.

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Vixen519 - maybe because they've been half frozen to death on a mountain. There's more interaction in this part.

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Wild320 - that would just be telling…

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Zayra - no, 'A Light..' will not be continued. Instead, I have two more BtVS/LotR in the works _AND_ the sequel to First Knight.

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And major thanks to:

clcountry, Fish Head the 3rd, Haley, MiShA, Night-Owl123, Rachel,

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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: ANY OLD PORT IN A STORM PART TWO

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"If all else fails, there's always hope, faith and blind luck!"

- unknown

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Caradhras, 3019 TA, January 12.

"I think I hated that plan."

That was Buffy's answer to Aragorn and Gandalf's desperate attempt to avoid the mines and the rest of the fellowship heartily agreed with her.

And so the defeated company were forced to scramble down the mountain, back from whence they had came, with all the speed they could muster ere those who were surely chasing them caught them.

But the spirits of the group were lowered considerably. They had met their first major obstacle and lost miserably. And the name of Moria was known to all as cursed. Even to the hobbits it was a rumour of a distant fear.

To those that knew better, it was a nightmare.

Only Gimli was anxious to be off to Moria, as he was convinced that his cousin Balin would be there to greet them, and give them a grand Dwarven feast and that he would get to see the great palace of his forefathers. Neither Buffy or Aragorn had the heart to tell him that unless the Dwarves had swamped the mines in their thousands, they did not have a hope in hell of retaking and holding the Black Pit.

They had taken Frodo's word on the subject for the moment, but as they retreated from the mountain under sudden fine weather, doubts began creeping into their hearts again.

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The base of Caradhras. 3019 TA, January 12, night.

That night they made camp at the base of the mountain once more, waiting for first light to seek out the long lost roads to that which Gandalf would have them go. But the company had also agreed that Frodo's decision on the matter was not enough when he did not know what he was agreeing to lead them into.

That meant that things would have to be hashed out by the group and Buffy was not looking forward to the discussion. She hated Moria with a passion; it reminded her way too much of her lovely home upon Hellmouth but as aeroplanes had yet to take off here, she really didn't have any alternatives to that cursed hole.

They gathered round in a group, sharing warmth and then Gandalf began. "There is a way we may attempt," Gandalf explained wearily, his old shoulders slumped, "I thought from the beginning, when I first considered this journey, that we should try it. But it is not a pleasant way, and I did not speak of it to the company before our attempt to go over Caradhras, and then I spoke of it to Frodo, for him to choose. But Aragorn was against it, until the pass over the mountains had at least been tried. If one was against it so be it, but when all of you are, then we must talk of what route we are to take."

"If it is a worse road than the Redhorn Gate, then it must be evil indeed," said Merry, shivering with remembered cold, "Considering that it nearly killed us, - several times I might add! But if there is, you had better tell us about it, and let us know the worst at once."

"The road that I speak of leads to the Mines of Moria." Gandalf said, "As I said already. If we cannot go over the mountain, then we must go under it."

"The road may lead to Moria, but how can we hope that it will lead through Moria?" Aragorn said darkly, eyes dark and pained with remembered anguish, "That place is not one where travellers pass idly through, but if they are so foolish as to go in, then they do not return."

"It is a name of ill omen," Boromir said, wholeheartedly agreeing with the ranger on this issue. "Nor do I see the need to go there. If we cannot cross the mountains, let us journey southwards until we come to the Gap of Rohan where men are friendly to my people, taking the road that I followed on my way hither. Or we might pass by and cross the Isen into Langstrand and Lebennin, and so come to Gondor from regions nigh to the sea. Even Aragorn and Buffy can agree with me here, they have walked in the lands of Gondor."

"Things have changed since you came north, Boromir," Gandalf argued, his pointed hat wavering precariously on its perch as he shook his head. "Did you not hear what I told you of Saruman? With him I may have business of my own ere all is over. But the Ring must not come near Isengard, if that can by any means be prevented. The Gap of Rohan is closed to us while we go with the Bearer. Saruman's strength is not one that I would risk when there was any way I might avoid it."

"Well, considering he already gave us an avalanche as a parting gift, I'd have to agree with you on that point," Buffy said cheekily, "Wizards tend to be no fun that way."

Gandalf just gave her a long suffering look, "As for the longer road, son of Denethor: we cannot afford the time. We might spend a year in such a journey, and we should pass through many lands that are empty and harbourless. Yet they would not be safe. The watchful eyes both of Saruman and of the Enemy are on them. When you came north, Boromir, you were in the Enemy's eyes only one stray wanderer from the South and a matter of small concern to him: his mind was busy with the pursuit of the Ring. But you return now as a member of the Ring's Company, and you are in peril as long as you remain with us. The danger will increase with every league that we go on south under the naked sky."

The wizard paused in thought before continuing, his expression grave, "Since our attempt on the mountain-pass, our plight has become more desperate, I fear. I see now little hope if do not soon vanish from sight for a while and cover our trail. Therefore I advise that we should go neither over the mountains nor round them, but under them. That is a road at any rate that the Enemy will least expect us to take."

"Considering that it's tantamount to suicide, of course he wouldn't!" Buffy grumped. "What idiot would? Besides us that is?"

"We do not know what he expects!" Boromir cried, unwilling to go through the mines of such ill repute, when they might go by safer lands. "He may watch all roads, likely and unlikely. In that case to enter Moria would be to walk into a trap, hardly better than knocking at the gates of the Dark Tower itself! The name of Moria is black."

"You speak of what you do not know when you liken Moria to the stronghold of Sauron," Gandalf said in annoyance. "I alone of you have ever been in the dungeons of the Dark Lord, and only in his lesser and older dwelling in Dol Guldur. Those who pass the gates of Barad-dûr do not return."

"Well, I've been to both Cirith Ungol and Moria," Buffy said dourly, "And trust me, I preferred Cirith Ungol, despite the Witch King and all that. The hospitality in Moria gives free goodie bags of death. Chances are like one million to one that you actually come out alive. Aragorn can vouch for that as well."

"I would not lead you into Moria if there were no hope of coming out again." Gandalf said gently, "If there are orcs there, it may prove ill for us, that is true. But most of the orcs of the Misty Mountains were scattered or destroyed in the Battle of Five Armies. The Eagles report that Orcs are gathering again from afar, but there is a hope that Moria is still free."

"It's not," Buffy butted in, "There is no way that the orcs didn't crawl into the huge free hole in the world that Moria offered. Bad guys like evil lairs, and if they're underground, they like them all the better!"

Gandalf studiously ignored her outburst, and tried to reassure the increasingly frightened hobbits, "There is even a chance that dwarves are there, and that in some deep hall of his fathers, Balin, son of Fundin, may be found. However it may prove, one must tread the path that need chooses." Gandalf said softly, and Gimli perked up at his words.

"Gandalf! If we go into Moria, we're almost certainly gonna have a welcoming committee of orcs! Not to mention everything else that's hiding in there! Evil things like dark holes to skulk in remember?" Buffy exclaimed, quickly getting fed up with this conversation. Beside her, Aragorn placed a warm hand on her shoulder to silently remind her to calm down, that she was frightening the Ring-bearer.

"I would only enter Moria if need forced me to," Buffy amended after a moment, trying to rein in her own fear of the place, "There are dark things there that do not sleep. More than enough to overwhelm a group a hundred times our size, let alone just us."

Gimli was unmoved by her cautioning, so eager was he to see the greatest work of the Dwarves, "I will tread the path with you, Gandalf. I will go and look on the halls of Durin, whatever may wait there - if you can find the doors that are shut." Gimli said proudly, throwing his full support behind the wizard.

"Good, Gimli. You encourage me," Gandalf said with quiet pleasure, looking at the fiery Dwarf. "We will seek the hidden doors together. And we will come through. In the ruins of the dwarves, a dwarf's head will be less easy to bewilder than elves or men or hobbits. Yet it will not be the first time that I have been to Moria. I sought there long for Thrain, son of Thror, after he was lost. I passed through, and I came out again alive."

"I, too, once passed the Dimrill Gate," Aragorn said quietly, joining the conversation, "But though I came out again, the memory is very evil. I do not wish to enter Moria a second time."

"And I don't wish to enter it even once," Pippin said, eyes wide and scared. Merry was silent and brooding at his side, an uncharacteristic mood for the young and lively hobbit.

"Nor me," muttered Sam, expression dour.

"Of course not!" Gandalf exclaimed, "Who would? But the question is, who will follow me if I lead you there?"

"I will!" Gimli said eagerly, proud to be the first to show his courage in such a journey. Especially before the Elf, who had gotten in ahead of him at the council. Hah! He thought, not this time, spawn of Thranduil!

There was only silence from the others until at last Aragorn broke it, "I will," Aragorn said heavily, his face bleak at the very prospect, but he could not refuse Gandalf now. "You followed my lead to disaster in the snow and have said no word of blame. I will follow your lead now—if this last warning does not move you. It is not the Ring, nor of us others that I am thinking now, but of you, Gandalf. And I say to you: if you pass the doors of Moria, beware!" he said, knowing that somehow or another, there was only doom for Gandalf in the mines.

"I will not go," Boromir said stoutly, "Not unless the vote of the whole company is against me. What do Legolas and the little folk say? The Ringbearer's voice surely should be heard!"

"I do not wish to go to Moria," said Legolas. As a Wood Elf, the dark enclosed space of Moria where no living thing grew would be near torture for him even if it was a peaceful passage.

Buffy spoke next, and her voice was subdued and quiet, "Moria nearly killed me once before. I have a tendency to dislike things that do that. I won't go unless the vote goes against me either. I haven't stayed alive this long by rushing up to death and saying 'hi'."

The hobbits said nothing. Sam only looked at Frodo, waiting for his master's word. At last Frodo spoke, "I do not wish to go," he said quietly but firmly, "But neither do I wish to refuse the advice of Gandalf. I beg that there should be no vote until we have slept on it. Gandalf will get votes easier in the light of the morning than in this cold gloom. How the wind howls!"

They fell into silent thought. They hear the wind hissing, and the howling and wailing round them in the empty spaces of the night.

As they listened, two sets of ears distinguished the danger first, and grey and hazel eyes widened with identical horror.

Suddenly, to most of the company's surprise, Aragorn leapt to his feet, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword, Andúril, "How the wind howls!" he cried. "It is howling with wolf-voices. The wargs have come west of the mountains!"

"And here I thought the evening would be dull," Buffy muttered, wondering at their foul luck.

There were horrified gasps from the experienced warriors, and Gandalf rose to his feet, "Need we wait until morning then?" he said, "It is as I have said. The hunt is up! Even if we live to see the dawn, who now will wish to journey south by night with the wild wolves on his trail?"

None could dispute his logic. They were trapped between a rock and a hard place and hard choices had to be made now.

"How far away is Moria?" Boromir asked after a moment.

"There was a door southwest of Caradhras, some fifteen miles as the crow flies and maybe twenty as the wolf runs." Gandalf answered grimly. "We must fly with all speed if we are to evade them."

"Then let us start as soon as it is light tomorrow, if we can," Boromir suggested. "The wolf that one hears is worse than the orc that one fears."

"True, but where the warg howls, there also the orc prowls," said Aragorn, loosening his sword in its sheath.

"As touching as these old wives' tales are," Buffy interrupted, "The truth of the matter is that the wargs would like to have us for dinner. Forget about tomorrow, if we don't survive the night, which I might add is their favourite hunting time, then we won't be going anywhere at all. Ever."

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Hollin, 3019, TA, January 12. Night.

That night they did not give any consideration to the speed of the hobbits, who were forced to run to keep up, they had to get somewhere defensible or else they were warg chow as Buffy so aptly put it.

And as tempers were running freely, Buffy did not have any qualms about enlightening them when Pippin started to complain about how he was hungry, and she whirled on him, looking every much like a predatory wolf herself, "Listen here little Hobbits," she hissed, "We are being hunted. Hunted by something very bad and nasty that will take great pleasure in ripping us to pieces if it finds us. And it doesn't care if you haven't had second breakfast or supper or whatever, it does not care that you are tired. All it wants is the kill... anyway it can get it. Now unless you want to be its dinner, stop complaining and MOVE!" Her icy tone and the frost of her gaze sent shivers down their spines and they hurried to obey.

For once, Gandalf let her be, glad that she was able to light a fire under the hobbits to keep the moving.

After about half an hour of this pace, the company found what they had been looking for. A spot where they had taken shelter on the way to Caradhras. They climbed to the top of the small hill and the warriors in the company quickly and efficiently checked it over.

It was crowned with a knot of old and twisted trees, about which laid a broken circle of boulder-stones. In the midst of this they lit a fire, for there was no hope that darkness and silence would keep their trail from discovery by the hunting packs.

Gandalf discreetly hauled Buffy aside, "Have you seen anything? Felt anything? Anything that can help us?" he demanded.

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Even when I do have a vision, sometimes all I get is bits and pieces. It's not like I can put in a tape and watch the movie." Seeing his puzzled expression, she waved her comment away, "Never mind. Suffice it to say that I've seen nothing in quite a while that can be of an help for us in this spectacular mess."

"You cannot tell me anything then?" Gandalf checked.

"I'll tell you you're headed into trouble, with a capital 'Troub.'" Buffy said darkly, and then peeked around the wizard at the sounds of arguing. "Well, this looks promising." she said with an annoyed sigh, "Looks like the truce has broken. Excuse me while I go deal with two idiots."

Marching back into the area, she watched Aragorn and Boromir argue over the watches rota for a moment before jumping in, "Oh that's good. Start bickering. That's gonna work great for us. You guys are like little old ladies." she said derisively, causing them to be quiet for a moment.

And that allowed Buffy time to do something they did not like.

Despite the difference in heights Buffy grabbed Boromir and Aragorn by the ear and hauled them away from one another, looking remarkably like a female dragon. Aragorn gulped and prayed to the Valar that his deaths would be quick as he knew that expression all too well, Boromir just glared at her. "You are supposed to be Lords of Men! Act like one!" she chastised the two errant men. "And me and Legolas will take second watch. That's most likely when they'll come anyway."

"What?!" Boromir said, not well pleased.

"Legolas and I have the best eyesight in the dark. And we shall probably feel or sense them first," Buffy pointed out reasonably.

"But I am one of the best Swordsmen!" Boromir protested.

Buffy just gave him a blank smile, "That's what I like about you Boromir," she said, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "You're always up for a fight. Sadly, though if we do our jobs right and keep 'em out, you won't be needed. No offence."

"You are not sneaking away to take care of the 'problem' Dagnir!" Aragorn said in a flash of insight.

"Even if I was, which I'm not, you're going to do what exactly to stop me?" There was silence. "I thought so. And my plan is to shoot them all dead before they get here. Sound good?"

Boromir was quiet for a moment, "The hobbits have never seen battle before," he said, "We must guarantee their safety."

"There's no such thing as a guarantee in this line of work," Buffy said equably, "Just put 'em in the middle and hope to the Valar that they don't do anything stupid."

"You are serious!" Boromir said after a moment of just looking at her.

"You betcha," Buffy replied, "Hope for the best and prepare for the worst thing you can possibly imagine and you should do okay."

"What are you?" Boromir asked, entranced by the suddenly dangerous air she had. There was something about her, something different, something that he had never seen before.

"A monster's worst nightmare," was the only answer he got, and even Aragorn was strangely silent on the topic.

Boromir's head snapped round as he heard another howl nearby. "They are here. Already? What devilry is this?"

"Monsters." Buffy said, "Welcome to my world, horn boy." and then she walked away.

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Hollin, 3019, TA, January 13. Night (after midnight).

"Buffy I hardly think this is the time for tales," Gandalf said somewhat crossly, standing over the blonde.

"Like they're gonna sleep with a pack of starving wargs gathering around us," Buffy said sweetly, "I'm only distracting them. And Gimli loves my preying mantis tale, don't you? It's a really great story as he gets to hear about the beauty of the preying mantis. - It only eats males."

"E-eats?" Gimli squeaked, causing Gandalf to glare at her.

"Chill Gandalf, let's try not to totally freak out the hobbits, shall we?" Buffy said meaningfully, nodding her head in the direction of the ghostly pale Frodo. "We might as well try to have some fun when we're allowed a fire, and who can do scary campfire tales better than a slayer?"

"And what if you have them so distracted that they do not notice the coming danger?" Gandalf demanded.

"That's why Boromir and Aragorn are on watch and whatever happens, it's okay. We can kill them just as dead in the morning. Plenty of branches here to use for impaling things."

"As long as it is not us," Gandalf said sternly.

"Well, if somebody tries to impale Mr Frodo they're going to have to get through me." Sam piped up bravely, obviously not really understanding what Buffy and Gandalf were talking about.

"That's okay," Buffy said agreeably, "We've got steel," she said, holding up her sword.

"And what good will that do?" Sam asked.

"It's Demon-be-gone." Buffy said cheerfully, "We kill 'em before they kill us. Don't worry, if things work out right you won't have to do any fighting."

And with that she launched into the story of Anya, Willow and the troll they accidentally conjured until the hobbits were at last asleep and under the watchful axe and eye of Gimli.

Satisfied that she'd managed to soothe the hobbits' fears somewhat, she got up from her cosy spot by the fire to see why Legolas was looking so down.

"What's up?" she asked cheerfully as she threw herself down beside the Elf, "You look like someone just broke your bow."

"The wargs gather Buffy," Legolas said.

"We knew that already. Why are you so scared? It's not like we haven't dealt with them before."

"Do you not feel it?" Legolas said softly. "It is not just wargs gathering out there, Dagnir."

Buffy just looked at him for a moment before opening her senses to see if what he was saying was true. What she felt shocked her. What was wrong with her lately? How could she not sense the danger that usually came as easy to her as breathing? Almost against her will, her eyes slid over to the Ring. That cursed thing was going to be the death of her she knew.

"You're right." she admitted, "My head must be twisted on wrong or something. I don't know how I could have missed it. It's like a… shadow. There's something stronger than a simple warg there."

"But who is it?" Legolas asked, "I have been pondering this for the last half hour and am no closer to an answer."

"It's too hard to pin anything down," Buffy agreed, "After all, who _isn't_ trying to kill us at this point?"

"Do we tell Gandalf?" Legolas said gravely, "He frets so much already, and if he cannot do anything to help, why tell him?"

Buffy couldn't find the heart to disagree with him, "He'll find out when all the fun starts anyway. And let's try to hope he doesn't decide to string us up a tree!"

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"Well, it's official. This day can't get any worse." Buffy said as she watched the glowing eyes creep forward through the darkness.

"I beg to differ." Aragorn said, his own bow notched and ready like the Elf and Slayer, "There are too many to shoot ere they breach the camp. The hobbits will need more defence than Boromir, Gimli and Gandalf can afford to give them."

"Then we have a situation here." Legolas summed up, himself glowing faintly in the dark as well. In Buffy's opinion, he could do well as a very low grade torch if they ever ran out of light.

"That you certainly do." Buffy agreed, "We're already too few to take down thirty wargs who can nearly jump this hill in one shot. The hobbits will have to protect themselves. It sounds cruel, but it's Frodo that we really have to worry about. He is the one they've come for, and in my experience, they'll ignore the others if they've got a chance to get him."

"If Gandalf were to burn a larger fire," Legolas said speculatively, his keen eyes scanning the hill for the best shooting places. "Then perhaps we could light our arrows and so ensure that each warg will not need more than one shot."

"Flaming arrows?" Buffy repeated, "Sounds good to me. What about you, Aragorn?"

"As long as it is only the wargs flesh that is kindled and not ours!" Aragorn replied grimly.

"I'll take that as a yes then," Buffy said, "Okay, you tell Gandalf. He's still annoyed with me. And here's a tip: Hurry!"

As Legolas moved off to oversee the construction of the flaming brands, the two remaining look outs shifted closer together. "The hobbits are like fish out of water." Buffy murmured, "You said that they had fought the wraiths?"

"Very bravely," Aragorn replied, "But no match for the Black Riders. But the wraiths descended on them swiftly, there was not this waiting. I think it disturbs them."

Buffy nodded, knowing what he meant. The waiting period before the battle begun was always the most fraught with tension, - especially if you could see the enemy coming towards you.

By now, a ring of eerily glowing eyes surrounded the hill, and most had crept up it, almost to the ring of stones that guarded the camp.

Buffy stiffened as her senses snapped to alert and skittered down her spine. Stepping nearer to a gap in the circle, she surveyed the darkness but even her eyes could make out nothing. "All right." she goaded whatever was out there, "Why don't you quit hiding and come out and face me like a... thing."

She took an involuntary step back in surprise when a great dark wolf shape could now be seen, staring back at her. This one's eyes weren't glowing like the others, but Buffy imagined they were black and teeming with evil.

Legolas had been all too right; this was no warg. But whatever it was, it was bad news.

Breaking the staring contest between slayer and monster, it let out a great shuddering howl broke from him, like he was a captain summoning his pack to the assault.

Which wouldn't be too far off in Buffy's opinion. Behind her, she felt something bump against her back as a curly head peeked around her. Pippin had come to see what Buffy was up to, and now looked to her for protection at the monster's fearsome appearance.

The hobbit now tugged frantically on her arm, "Less talk, more running away!" he demanded, trying to pull her along.

"You can't run from them," Buffy said, "That would only lead to chasing. You can't just run away."

"Run away?" Pippin squealed somewhat panicked, "Finally, a sensible plan! Let's do that!"

Luckily, Pippin never got his chance as at the first sign of the great monster bunching its legs to jump, Gandalf strode forward, holding his staff aloft, and a small light shining from it. "Listen, Hound of Sauron," the wizard cried in a loud voice," Gandalf is here. Fly, if you value your foul skin! I will shrivel you from tail to snout, if you come within this ring!"

Of course, that did not deter the hound of Sauron, and it only snarled and sprang towards them. Three sharp twangs rang out across the campsite as Buffy, Legolas and Aragorn loosed their bows.

Buffy could have sworn she felt some kind of … wind, as she could only describe it, pass through the hill and then there was an absolutely hideous yell and the wolf fell from mid air to the ground; two Elvish arrows in its throat and another in its hindquarter.

Almost at once the watching eyes were suddenly extinguished, as if they had just disappeared. To the suspicious slayer, it was just plain creepy. Gandalf and Aragorn strode forward to investigate the strange occurrence, but the hill was deserted, and for all intents and purposes it seemed that the hunting packs had fled with the death of the lead warg.

And all about them the darkness grew silent, and no cry came on the sighing wind.

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Hollin, 3019, TA, January 13. Approx. between 2 -3 in the morning.

The night was old, and the waning moon was setting when those on watch got a nasty surprise. At first, Buffy's eyes had widened impossibly and then she'd called for Legolas, who was scouting the opposite side of the hill, "We've got company! And they brought a crusade!" the slayer hissed, pointing to the gathering wargs below them.

The archer's eyes took in the scene as well, and then he nodded, "Keep watch," he said calmly, "I'll wake the others."

"I feel like I should have a great idea right now. But I don't." Buffy said, "Let's hope that Gandalf can pull something out of that hat of his."

The Elf quietly awoke everyone but the hobbits, and soon the others had joined Buffy at the ridge of the hill. "We're surrounded." Gimli stated in disbelief.

"I had noticed." Buffy replied dryly, "Question is what do we do?"

There was several moments of rapid thinking before Aragon blurted out, despite his own misgivings he knew that Buffy was the only one for the task. "We need you to distract the wargs."

Buffy blinked as she digested that, "Right." she said warily, "Why exactly?"

"So that we can have some time to shoot them down ere they come upon us," Aragorn said, "You are the only one who can come back unscathed."

"Oh, trusting me now, are we?" Buffy huffed, "And this is the guy who gave me the 'damsel in distress' routine. Some turnaround ranger boy, but okay, I'll do it."

Grabbing a thick branch almost as long as herself, she started to march down the hill. "Buffy? What are you going to do?" Boromir asked, baffled by this exchange.

Buffy smiled airily, "I'm gonna kill them all. That ought to distract them." she replied, and then marched down the hill. "Try not to shoot me!" she called back as an afterthought.

And then, in an instant, the fight was on.

As a hail of flaming arrows started falling on the wargs, cheered on by Boromir, Gimli and Gandalf who had no bows, Buffy picked up her makeshift quarterstaff and started swinging. Soon enough, she got a comfortable rhythm going and started humming 'we're going out to the ball game' under her breath as she cracked another warg's skull.

But the tables turned quickly as the wargs had the advantage of numbers and Buffy soon retreated to the others, amid a deafening cacophony of howling that had broken out.

By now, the hobbits were wide awake, started from sleep by the howls and clashes of battle, and Gandalf turned aside to order them into line.

"Fling fuel on the fire!" the wizard cried to the hobbits, "Draw your blades, and stand back to back!"

Frightened as rabbits, the hobbits complied readily, too green to be of use in a close quarters battle, and too unused to the very sight of warfare and blood to be safe unwatched.

Buffy however had some perfect advice to dispense to the frozen hobbits, "Don't just stand there! Kill something!" she yelled at them, "Do you have swords or not, little people?!"

As the hobbits clumsily drew their swords, and started to hack wildly at anything that even looked to be coming towards them, Buffy and Gimli tag-teamed a particularly ugly orc, and managed with thanks to Gimli's axe as a lever, to topple a heavy boulder on it, crushing it to death.

"Those guys are better off squashed, I truly think." Buffy said, eyeing the rather disgusting warg pancake that resulted.

"I could not agree more with you, lass," Gimli said, "Now back to work! This Dwarf's axe is still hungry!"

Buffy looked at him appreciatively as they hacked and slashed and parried, "Fun, isn't it?"

"I do appreciate violence." Gimli said debonairly as he embedded his axe in one warg's spinal cord.

"Good." Buffy replied, "Now care to explain why these wargs aren't dying?!" she said, as she watched the one with the supposedly severed spine suddenly get back to its feet and scanning around for the crushed one, all she could see was the boulder. No soon of the dead monster.

But even as they fought to keep these strange warg-like creatures at bay whilst trying to avoid falling into the blazing fire, Gandalf seemed suddenly to grow; he rose up, a great menacing shape like the monument of some ancient king of stone set upon a hill. He lifted a burning branch like a torch, and strode to meet the slavering wargs. And to most of the warriors' surprise they gave back before him.

High in the air he tossed the blazing brand. It flared with a sudden white radiance like lightning, and his voice rolled like thunder so that even his own company were forced to look away and cover their ears.

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"Naur an edraith ammen! Naur dan i ngaurhoth!" he cried loudly, and the sound was terrible to all that heard it. (Fire for the saving of us! Fire against the werewolf host!)

The fire wavered and then there was a roar and a crackle, and the tree above him burst into a leaf and bloom of blinding blazing flame.

Buffy winced in pain as her eyes were seared, "Does he have to do that so brightly?" she complained, trying to shield herself from the intense light.

But her mouth fell open when she snuck a peek and couldn't believe what the crafty old wizard was doing.

The fire Gandalf had started leapt from tree-top to tree-top. The whole hill was crowned with dazzling light. The swords and knives of the defenders shone and flickered as they slashed and whirled through the air. The last arrow of Legolas kindled in the air as it flew, and plunged burning into the heart of a great wolf-chieftain. That ended it. All others fled. None would dare face a wizard's wrath now.

"Now that is just how I like my wargs. Medium well." Buffy said with admiration, "Cool show Mr Wizard."

Another explosion of fire in a tree above them caused Buffy to clutch her eyes again, "Okay! That's enough with the fireworks Gandalf!" she called, trying to will away the black spots in front of her eyes.

When the commotion at last died down, the company found themselves once more alone in a sea of darkness, - the eyes were gone, - and the last few flames flickered pitifully in the blackened trees around them.

All were silent, staring at the devastation around them, and the more observant amongst them noticed that they could see no bodies of the wargs that had killed.

"I am very tired, now I need a nap." Buffy announced to break the uneasy silence, and then with exaggerated disgust she looked at the dirt covering her, "This does nothing for my complexion." she complained in a stage whisperer.

That broke the deadlock and caused the hobbits to chuckle a bit after their latest near death experience.

Legolas and Aragorn who were near her, heard her and had to disguise their chuckles at this typical show from the slayer. "I heard that!" she called with an exaggerated pout, stopping to give them a pointed glare and then resumed her search for somewhere to clean herself up. "Get some sleep guys!" she said, "It's gonna be a long run tomorrow."

And she vowed to find out where the 'bodies' went in the morning.

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Hollin, 3019, TA, January 13. After dawn.

But the mystery only deepened under the light of day.

When the full light of morning came no sign of the wolves were to be found, and they looked in vain for the bodies of the dead. No trace of the fight remained but the charred trees and the arrows of Legolas lying on the hill-top. All were undamaged save one of which only the point was left.

Of course that meant that Gimli could not resist taunting Legolas by saying that he did not shoot anything but air. And even Buffy's annoyed comments would not shut them up.

"If those two don't kill each other, I might lend a hand." she grumbled, and ignored Aragorn's slightly amused remark at her crabbiness, "I like sunrise better when I'm getting up early than when I'm staying up late, you know? It's like I'm seeing it from the wrong side lately." she explained, and then had to shut up their nice conversation over what sort of creature had paid them a visit last night to listen to Gandalf.

"It is as I feared," Gandalf explained hurriedly, almost quivering in his rush to be gone, "These were no ordinary wolves hunting for food in the wilderness. Let us eat quickly and go!"

But Buffy's eyes were consistently drawn back to the ground where bodies should have lay, and she knew that just because Gandalf did not want to speak of the matter in front of the hobbits, that it would be spoken of again and pondered on with worry.

Sauron had just sent his first servants against the combined fellowship, Buffy thought certainly, and who knew what he was sending next?

And who knew that the Ring hadn't led them right to their door?

And as her hardened gaze turned to look at the offending ring around Frodo's neck, her mind was seized by a vision of Aragorn being run through by an enemy sword, "_You can never hope to grasp the source of our power. But yours is right here_…." the voice of the Ring taunted her, and her horrified gaze landed on Aragorn.

Oh by the Valar, not him!

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A/N: Well? Opinions please! Please READ and REVIEW!!!!

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Next chapter: The fellowship enter the mines of Moria… Boromir gets curious… Gandalf gets stonewalled… the water is disturbed…. Something is lurking unseen in the black pit… there's also some conspiring going on…

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Elvish:

Caradhras - Red Horn

Andúril - Flame of the West

Dagnir - slayer

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Naur an edraith ammen! Naur dan i ngaurhoth - Fire for the saving of us! Fire against the werewolf host! (Sindarin)

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Cirith Ungol - Translates as 'Spider's Cleft'. The name was lent not only to the pass but to the fortress that guarded it as well. Cirith Ungol was a fortress unto its own. The Tower of Cirith Ungol, was a stronghold made by the Men of Gondor after the Last Alliance to keep watch on Mordor but Mordor took it over.

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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	30. The Substance of Fire Part 1

**FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

**Summary**: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

**Author's notes:** okay, I did notice the crappy formatting of the last chapter and I do apologise for it but that chapter went up between two site upgrades so changing it was impossible until the site was allowing submissions once more.

**P.S -** as I realise that when this site shuts down or acts up, it can be extremely frustrating for all involved, I would like to make it known that this fic is available at another site, and is updated at the same time as this. It will always be available there if there are any problems with this site. The sites name is: - Twisting the Hellmouth and the link to both the site and my fic will be posted in my bio.

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Review responses:

Anna -giddiness excused. No the wolf wasn't the same one that Buffy killed before. That was a one time only monster. Yes, the question though is if Buffy prevent whatever's about to befall Aragorn? And as a hint, maybe she's better off watching her own back…

_Black Phoenyx -_ yes, I heard about the formatting. See author's note above. I don't know anyone who needs a beta at the moment, I don't have a lot of author friends, but you could always post at this site saying you're looking for an author to beta.

_Ellie - _hints so far. But very soon.

_Fairieangel_ - thanks! I think everyone is curious!

_FallenStar2 _- see note above about formatting. And yes, I personally like the Buffy of earlier seasons compared to seasons 6 and 7. I felt they let it get too dark and Buffy lost some of her liveliness, especially with all the potentials running underfoot.

_goldenshadows_ - Buffy blabs in another way.

_Haley_ - thanks a lot! Actually, the vanishing of the wargs occurred in the books. There was never any explanation. So I guess I'll have to come up with one of my own. As for site problems… just tell me about it. It happens to me so often that I could scream… but for the solution to this problem, see my author's note above and the link in my bio.

_Lunawolf_ - Sauron doesn't know. Yet.

_MiShA _- thanks! And why shouldn't I hurt Aragorn?

_Rachel_ - it's always nice when the lurkers come out of the woodwork! :) And an apoplexy is like a stroke - a sudden inability to feel or move. Another meaning is red-faced rage.

_ShawThang_ - for formatting, please see author's note. And Buffy's gonna get a lot more scared before it's over. Thanks for your lovely comments! And after the fellowship splits, I hope to make very step in the adventure similar but original due to Buffy in this fic. I don't want to re-hash what's already been written.

_Sparky24_ - thanks! And good question, how is she going to survive? (grins evilly)

_Wild320_ - interesting description of the critter.

_And major thanks to:_

_Gaul1, Imp17, Night-Owl123,_

CHAPTER THIRTY: THE SUBSTANCE OF FIRE PART ONE

__

Hollin, 3019, TA. January 13 .

With the howls of the hunting packs dogging their steps, the Fellowship were flying to the dubious refuge of Moria.

"We must reach the doors before sunset, or I fear we shall not reach them at all," Gandalf said as he drove them on at a swift pace, "It is not far, but our path may be winding, for here Aragorn can not guide us; he has seldom walked in this country, and only once have I been under the west wall of Moria, and that was long ago."

It was not an easy journey; the pace was harsh and too often for anybody's comfort did the howls of the wargs sound out nearby. For her part, Buffy was struggling to cope with the deadly unease that she kept hidden inside her. To her horror, it seemed that the Ring had indeed sussed out one of her deepest fears - that Aragorn would die on her watch, - and she, knowing the evil that the Ring was capable of, was helpless to do anything when she knew not what was coming.

The hobbits had been shocked by the disappearing act that the warg bodies had pulled and were strangely quiet, and through the safety net blissful ignorance, were eager to reach the supposed safety of the Dwarven Mines that Gimli touted at every turn, with talks of grand feasts and comfortable beds. The others left the hobbits to their nice delusions; none of the others save Gimli expected such a welcome.

They had been walking for a few long hours, and because none were familiar with the land, Gandalf was their only guide. More than once, Buffy heard the grumbles from the others that Gandalf did not know where he was going, and wondering why it was taking so long to reach this place.

At last though Gandalf spotted the landmarks he wanted, and with the echo of howls following them, he pointed out the location of the mines to the fellowship.

"There it lies," Gandalf said, his relief evident, "When we left the pass I led you southwards and not back to our starting point, as some of you may have noticed, It is well that I did so, for now we have several miles less to cross, and haste is needed. Let us go."

Boromir just dismally studied the distant rock face, and said solemnly to the group, "I do not know which to hope: that Gandalf will find what he seeks, or that coming to the cliff we shall find the gates lost forever," Boromir said despondently, "All choices seem ill, and to be caught between wolves and the wall the likeliest chance. Lead on!"

At last the struggling company came to the dry bed of the River Sirannon, the Gate-stream, and were dismayed to find that the path Gandalf sought no longer existed.

"There are the Walls of Moria." Gandalf pointed out to them, and the dank slimy walls looked far from inviting, "And there the Gate stood once upon a time, the Elven door at the end of the road from Hollin by which we have come. But this way is blocked. None of the company, I guess, will wish to swim this gloomy water at the end of the day. It has an unwholesome look."

"No kidding," Buffy said grumpily, "Exactly how long ago did you visit this place to _not_ know that there's a dam!"

Gandalf just harrumphed and adjusted his hat, "Enough of that from you Dagnir, lest tales of your own folly be spread." (slayer)

"We must find a way round the northern edge," Gimli said, breaking the tension unknowingly, "The first thing for the company to do is to climb up by the main path and see where that will lead us. Even if there were no lake, we could not get our baggage pony up this stair."

"But in any case we cannot take the poor beast into the Mines," Gandalf said gently, with a reassuring look towards Sam, "The road under the mountains is a dark road, and there are places narrow and steep where he cannot tread, even if we can."

Sam's expression only got darker at that, and he clutched at Bill the Pony as if to offer him his own personal protection, but he kept his silence as they skirted the lake and came to the place where Gandalf swore the Gates of Moria were located.

"Well, here we are at last!" Gandalf said happily, banging his staff on the hard stone, "Here the Elven-way from Hollin ended," the wizard continued. "Holly was the token of the people of that land, and they planted it here to mark the end of their domain; for the West-door was made chiefly for their use in their traffic with the Lords of Moria. Those were happier days, when there was still close friendship at times between folk of difference race, even between dwarves and elves."

Of course, in everyone else's opinion he should have known better than to even think of saying something so volatile as that, and like everybody else expected, Legolas and Gimli were at one another's throats again.

"It was not the fault of the dwarves that the friendship waned," Gimli said dourly, with a menacing look at the Elf.

"I have not heard that it was the fault of the elves," Legolas retorted coldly and seemed about to say something else when Gandalf realised his error and broke in.

"I have heard both," Gandalf said warningly, "And I will not give judgement now. But I beg you two, Legolas and Gimli, at least to be friends, and to help me. I need you both. The doors are shut and hidden, and the sooner we find them, the better. Night is at hand."

None needed to be told that night held the greatest danger for the company, and none wanted to end up as Boromir predicted; - between the wargs and the wall.

"While I am searching, will you each make ready to enter the Mines?" the wizard asked before he moved to search for the doors. "For here I fear we must say farewell to our good beast of burden. You must lay aside much of the stuff that we brought against bitter weather: you will not need it inside, nor, I hope, when we come through and journey on down into the South. Instead each of us must take a share of what the pony carried, especially the food and the water-skins."

Aragorn nodded and said that he would take charge of that and led Sam aside with the other hobbits to begin taking the load off Sam. Buffy wanted to help but found her gaze fixated on water; the last time she'd seen water that nicely murky, she'd drowned in it.

Aragorn saw her unease but could not go to her at the time, as he had only just finished cajoling Sam into releasing Bill. "Mines are no place for a pony. Even one so brave as Bill." he said with compassion.

Sam sadly reached up to pet the pony one last time, "Bye bye, Bill."

Aragorn tried to be reassuring, "Go on, Bill. Go on. Do not worry Sam. He knows the way home."

Now if only we can do the same, he thought wryly to himself.

----------------------------

__

The West-gate of Moria, 3019, TA. January 13 , - Nightfall.

After an hour of watching Buffy pace the water's edge, Aragorn could no longer abide it and went to his long time friend. "Buffy," he called quietly, "Stalking it will not help."

"I don't like to turn my back on danger, Aragorn," Buffy said in annoyance, "You know that."

"I also know that your nervousness is affecting the hobbits," he replied, catching her by the arm and leading her away to the more secluded lake-side area, out of hearing of the rest of the fellowship.

"I am so not nervous!" Buffy defended, "I'm just wary."

"You are scared," Aragorn said with certainty, "Lie to me if you want but do not lie to yourself. I know what you went through, I think no less of you for it. The thought of entering Moria chills my bones too. I know how you feel, Buffy."

"How could you possibly have any idea how I feel?!" Buffy exclaimed angrily as her own frustration got to her, her arms waving around wildly as if to emphasise her point, "I'm used to going in, beating up the baddie and saving the day! Even here in Middle Earth, I'm used to doing damage to things! I am NOT used to being helpless! I can't seem to do anything right! I'm not all wizardly like Gandalf, I've no purpose like you and Boromir, I don't have Legolas's abilities or Gimli's confidence. For the love of Arda, what am I doing here?" she cried in desperation.

Unable to bear her suffering and her belittling of herself, Aragorn stepped forward and enfolded her in his arms, tucking her head against his chest, silently offering comfort and studiously ignoring the set of Elven bright eyes boring uncomfortably into his back.

At first she fought him but she was too distressed to force herself to move away, and so she melted into his embrace, liking the feeling of comfort she was getting from being wrapped in his strong arms and for once, having someone else picking up the slack.

"'Tis alright to be scared," Aragorn murmured into her ear, "Everyone is. Even Gimli the Dwarf. You do not have to be strong all the time."

"I'm the slayer," Buffy said, her voice muffled by the fabric of his tunic, "It's my job, or my life, whichever way you look at it. You don't get it Aragorn, I don't do falling apart."

"Everyone falls apart as you put it, Buffy," Aragorn said, holding her tighter, sensing her own need to blame herself for everything, "You carry too much of the world on your shoulders for too little gain. Do not debase yourself by berating yourself so. It is not the Dagnir I know."

"And is it the Buffy you know?" Buffy accused bitterly, "All my life here I've been the slayer. You've never seen me as a woman. How could you even begin to separate the two?!"

Aragorn's heart clenched painfully at her words. If only she knew how untrue that was! "Buffy, you being the slayer is tied up with you being a woman. You are the strongest woman I know, and one of the bravest people of my acquaintance. On top of that, you are beautiful, intelligent, kind and witty. And I know only what part of you that you have been willing to share. But I would know all if you would just let me. Do not shut me out in an attempt to protect yourself, Buffy. Do not throw our friendship away." he pleaded.

She could not hold out against his caring assault, and instead sought to run, - run before she revealed too much, and before long kept secrets were brought out of the shadows and into the light.

He did know her though and even as she tried to flee, he held her to him, trapping her against his larger frame and using the knowledge that she would not use her strength to hurt him to his advantage.

Eventually it came down to a direct choice for her; to give in to the ranger or to throw him off of her. Unable to harm her friend and secret love, she subsided, relaxing into his hold with an annoyed pout to conceal the fact that her heart was racing at his touch.

To Aragorn, this expression of trust was worth ten times more than the crown that Elrond would foist on him, and he felt a warm glow spread through him at the thought. Maybe he was not worthy of Buffy after being ignorant of her feelings for so many years, but he swore to the Valar that if she would just give him a chance, he would make up for that failing tenfold. And her reactions gave him the hope he needed to think that maybe he had a chance of gaining her love once more.

"You know that I will walk with you through the dark halls, like we did once before," Aragorn said softly, "We survived it then and we were only two. We are ten now, and a wizard amongst us."

"Did you ever think that just makes us bigger targets?" Buffy asked, her eyes shadowed.

"I know that danger stalks those mines, but we must go in or face the wolves. Mayhap there is some truth to Gimli's cousin having lordship of the mines. But we must go in."

"I don't want to go in there!" Buffy said, "I don't care how babyish I'm being. I know all too well what's in there and I've already died too many times. Not to mention that Gandalf is being way too 'let's chase death' for my liking. We're supposed to get Frodo to Mount Doom alive, not take him into an orcs' den."

Aragorn could not say that she was wrong, only provide her with some hope against her fears, "We survived once. We shall do it again," he said confidently, "The odds are on our side now."

Buffy rested her head against his chest for a moment, and he revelled in the feeling of rightness that pervaded the movement, but then her eyes fluttered closed and she sighed and said, "Then why do I feel like something's waiting in there for us? Something evil."

Aragorn could say nothing but only held her tighter, and hoped to Eru that he would not take this woman away from him before he had any chance to make things up to her.

----------------------------

From his position near the dank walls, Boromir had watched the exchange between Buffy and Aragorn with much curiosity.

From all he had seen of Buffy, or Dagnir as the others called her, she was a high tempered lady with the ability to be extremely dangerous when she wanted to be. He knew not how she did it, and knew that Legolas, Gandalf, Aragorn and the lady herself were keeping him in the dark about it. He was no simpleton. Whatever secret she harboured, she obviously did not yet trust him enough to share it with him.

But he had to admit that the ranger had a knack for knowing how to handle her most of the time. Just as the lady seemed to have with him. And their impassioned conversation greatly intrigued him.

He could not hear them, only watch their agitated expressions and strange actions, but he knew of one who could.

Sidling up to Legolas, he spoke casually, "Aragorn and Buffy seem to have much to speak of. Could they not do it in front of us or must they skulk in the shadows?"

Neither noticed the slight figure of Frodo as he listened in.

Legolas eyed him sideways, "Not all words are meant for the group's ears," the Elf said staunchly, "You would do well to stifle your curiosity, son of Denethor."

"How can I?" Boromir demanded, "This is the man who wishes to be my King, one of the line of Númenor, the man who will depose my father and disinherit me. Have I not a right to ascertain what kind of man he is? Kings can afford few secrets."

"If Aragorn had not yet proved himself honourable, man of Gondor," Legolas said chillily, "Then it is not my place to furnish you with gossip to fill your head with."

"I know you know something of which I speak!" Boromir hissed furiously, "I know they keep me in the dark. Whatever Aragorn's motives may be, at least I know what he is. Who is this Buffy? She claimed to be one of the Dúnedain at Elrond's council, but if she is of his kin, why do they act like lovers in springtime?"

He did not expect to be staring down the edge of one of Legolas's knives, and he nearly staggered as he met suddenly cold silver-blue eyes that were lit from within with the flame of the Eldar. He had not experienced such before. It almost felt like the Elf could see through him.

"Do not speak of them so!" the Elf hissed, "Your _Lord_ Aragorn is betrothed to Arwen Undómiel, Evenstar of her people, Lady of Lórien and Imladris; you would do well not to presume too much. He is friends with Buffy, nothing more. He is no deceiver."

"Then why do they hide together like spies? And why does he not allow her to leave when she so wishes?" Boromir snarled back, "In Gondor it is not practice that a man should stand by and leave a woman undefended."

"Buffy does not need your protection," Legolas replied calmly, "And they speak of dark times. Dark times they both experienced in these Dwarven pits before. Do not jump to conclusions, son of Denethor, when you do not know the facts. That is all you need to know."

"They have been to this hole before? I had thought their claims an exaggeration," Boromir said, "Especially as they do not help Gandalf to find the doors."

"They came in the other way if memory serves," Legolas answered stiffly, "And they passed through more peril than you have ever encountered. Do not dog them, Boromir." he warned.

"I just want to know if I am to be led to my death," Boromir said, "Is that not a man's right? Are the mines not cursed?"

"Death dwells there and I do not wish to enter but I understand that I must." Legolas replied, "And so should you understand. This quest is not our own, but Middle Earth's and if we should fail, there is nothing that can stop a second darkness spreading across all lands. Save your worries over your land, Boromir, it is pointless. Until Aragorn comes to claim the Kingship, you need not fret over his ability to be what he has not yet accepted. Instead, look to your own safety and that of the fellowship. We have a dark journey ahead."

For all his trying, Boromir could pry nothing more out of the Elf, and he went away dissatisfied and burning with curiosity.

And in the shadows, Frodo sat with eyes wide open in startled surprise.

----------------------------

After a few minutes had passed, and his gaze had once more been drawn to the water, Frodo approached Legolas. "Legolas?" he called somewhat hesitantly.

"Yes, Frodo, what is it?" the Elf replied, with no signs of his previous temper.

"The water? It is so strange." Frodo began hesitantly, "I think there is something wrong with it."

At his words, the Elf trained his keen sight on the eerie dark water. After a moment, he returned his stare to the Ring-bearer, "I share your unease, Frodo," he said, "But I know not the cause. You would need to ask Buffy for a more definite answer. I only say this; - stay away from the water."

"I think I already knew that," Frodo replied quietly, "I do not know why, but I almost feel like something's lurking under there…"

----------------------------

After Aragorn had soothed Buffy into an acceptable state of perpetual alertness, he was surprised to see her eyes narrow and her head to peek over his shoulder to see something. As he felt the length of her lithe body press against his, he resisted the urge to step back to master his will, unwilling to let her know of the effect she had on him.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Buffy asked.

"Is what supposed to do what?" Aragorn asked, not understanding what she was asking.

Grabbing his hand, she turned him round, and pointed towards the water, which was now bubbling strangely. "I don't think that's a good thing," she said, "It mustn't be disturbed if you value your life. But the two village idiots seem to be doing just that."

Aragorn then noticed that the indomitable duo of Merry and Pippin were throwing stones into the water from sheer boredom, "I shall take care of it," he said, leaving her side regretfully.

Striding across to the two oblivious hobbits, he snatched hold of Pippin's collar just as the young hobbit was about to let loose a stone.

"Aragorn! Really!" Pippin exclaimed angrily, tilting his head backwards to glare at the ranger.

"Do not disturb the water." Aragorn hissed, dragging Merry and Pippin backwards.

The hobbits looked between him and the seemingly innocent water, "Why?" Merry asked.

"Because if you value your hides you will not disturb the water." Aragorn replied tersely, "Beware hobbits. There are older and darker things in the world than you can dream of."

What could the hobbits say to that?

----------------------------

But at last, they all drifted back to Gandalf and Gimli were, after an hour, were still searching for the doors.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Gimli explained when Legolas made a derisive comment on the Dwarven sense of direction.

"Yes, Gimli, their own masters cannot find them, if their secrets are forgotten." Gandalf said.

"Now, why doesn't that surprise me?" Buffy snapped.

The Hobbits drifted over then, "But where are the Doors? I can't see any sign of them." Pippin asked.

"Dwarf-doors are not made to be seen when shut," Gimli explained again, "They are invisible, and their own masters cannot find them or open them, if their secret is forgotten."

"But this Door was not made to be a secret known only to dwarves." said Gandalf, suddenly coming to life and turning around to look at them, "Unless things are altogether changed, eyes that know what to look for may discover the signs."

He walked forward to the somewhat slimy wall. Right between the shadow of the trees there was a smooth space, and over this he passed his hands to and fro, muttering words under his breath. "Well, let's see... Ithildin. It mirrors only starlight and moonlight…" Then with a pleased smile, he stepped back.

"Look," Gandalf said, "Can you see anything now?"

The clouds covering the moon drifted away then, and slowly, in sparkling lines of silver, a door was revealed, with words over it, reading, 'The doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter.'

"There are the emblems of Durin!" Gimli exclaimed exuberantly, almost jumping forward in his excitement.

"And there is the Tree of the High Elves," Legolas added with a glare towards Gimli.

"And the Star of the House of Fëanor," Gandalf said, "They are wrought of _ithildin _that mirrors only starlight and moonlight, and sleeps until it is touched by one who speaks words now long forgotten in Middle-earth. It is long since I heard them, and I thought deeply before I could recall them to my mind."

"Really, I thought all you old ancient people would know them off by heart," Buffy said, "Especially when selling it to us as a refuge."

"What does the writing say?" Frodo asked, trying to stop another Gandalf-Buffy war of words. "I thought I knew the elf-letters, but I cannot read these." he said in puzzlement.

"The words are in the Elven-tongue of the West of Middle-earth in the Elder Days, in Quenya," the wizard answered patiently, knowing of Bilbo and Frodo's interest in the Elven tongues. "But they do not say anything of importance to us. They say only: '_The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.'_ And underneath small and faint is written: '_I, Narvi, made them. Celebrimbor of Hollin drew these signs.'_"

"What does it mean by '_speak, friend, and enter'_?" Merry asked.

"That is plain enough," Gimli said with a shrug, as if not understanding how one could not know this. "If you are a friend, speak the password, and the doors will open, and you can enter."

"Yes, these doors are probably governed by words," Gandalf agreed, studying the writing on the wall. "Some dwarf-gates will open only at special times, or for particular persons; and some have locks and keys that are still needed when all necessary times and words are known. These doors have no key. In the days of Durin they were not secret. They usually stood open and doorwards sat here. But if they were shut, any who knew the opening word could speak it and pass in. At least so it is recorded, is it not, Gimli?" he said.

"It is. But what the word was is not remembered," Gimli answered, eager to share his knowledge with the wizard and with the added bonus of showing up the Elf, "Narvi and his craft and all his kindred have vanished from the earth."

"But do not _you_ know the words, Gandalf?" Boromir asked in surprise and gathering anger.

"No," Gandalf answered baldly.

"Then what was the use of bringing us to this accursed spot?" cried Boromir in anger and frustration, glancing back with a shudder at the dark water. "You told us that you have once passed through the Mines. How could that be, if you did not know how to enter?" he demanded accusingly.

Buffy really had to hand it to him, the man had guts. And he always asked the questions that everyone wanted to ask but thought better of.

"The answer to your first question, Boromir, is that I do not know the word—yet." Gandalf said indignantly, with a steely glint in his eyes under their bristling brows. "But we shall soon see. And, you may ask what is the use of my deeds when they are proved useless. As for your other question: do you doubt my tale? Or have you no wits left? I did not enter this way. I came from the East."

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Does everybody enter that way for a reason, I wonder?" she pondered aloud, mock seriously.

"If you wish to know, I will tell you that these doors open outwards," the wizard said, gesturing to the silver lined doors on the wall, "From the inside you may thrust them open with your hands. From the outside nothing will move them save the spell of command. They cannot be forced inwards."

"What are you going to do then?" Pippin asked, apparently not concerned with the wizard's temper.

"Knock on the doors with your head, Peregrin Took," Gandalf snapped in annoyance, "But if that does not shatter them, and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will seek for the opening words."

He paused, looked at the doors and then continued, "I once knew every spell in all the tongues of elves or men or orcs that was ever used for such a purpose," ignoring Buffy and Aragorn's stares at the mention of orc passwords. "I can still remember ten score of them without searching in my mind. But only a few trials, I think, will be needed; and I shall not have to call on Gimli for words of the secret dwarf-tongue that they teach to none. The opening words were Elvish, like the writing on the arch: that seems certain."

Legolas sniffed, "As if the Dwarven tongue is needed. This was the Elven way."

Gandalf ignored him, and placed his staff at a point on the door and intoned, "_Annon edhellen, edro hi ammen! Fennas nogothrim, lasto beth lammen!_" (Gate of the elves, open now for us! Doorway of the dwarves, listen to the word of my tongue!)

It did not work.

Gandalf harrumphed, and then tried again, "_Lasto, annon edhellen, a edro ammen!_" (Listen, gate of the elves, and open for us!")

And then again.

And again.

"_Ando Eldarinwa a lasta quettanya, Fenda Casarinwa_!" (Gate of Elves listen to my word, Threshold of Dwarves!)

After many tries, he threw his staff to the ground and sat down in silence, taking off his hat, and muttering, "Oh, it's useless!"

"Great!" Buffy exclaimed, "Just great! Well done Gandalf! You can't even get us into the mines! The wargs chasing us don't seem to be the type to conveniently die and we are in so much trouble it's hard to believe that it could actually happen to us. Oh, who am I kidding? Of course it was going to happen to us?! Any bright ideas, Mr Wizard?"

At that moment, from far off the wind bore to their listening ears the howling of wolves. Bill the pony started in fear, and Sam sprang to his side and whispered softly to him.

"Do not let him run away!" said Boromir, "It seems that we shall need him still, if the wolves do not find us! How I hate this foul pool!" he stooped, picked up a large stone and threw it into the water, ignoring the sudden glares of Buffy, Legolas and Aragorn.

"Why did you do that Boromir?" Frodo asked patiently, but with no little trepidation, "I hate this place, too, and I am afraid. I don't know of what; not of wolves, or the dark behind the doors, but of something else! I am afraid of the pool! Don't disturb it!"

There was a strained silence after that, and Aragorn kept himself positioned near Buffy to offer her support.

After enduring half an hour of the howling growing ever closer, Gandalf suddenly leapt to his feet, "I have it!" he cried, "Of course, of course!" Gandalf laughing as he approached the door, "Absurdly simple, like most riddles when you see the answer. - _Mellon_!" (friend)

"I was wrong after all, and Gimli, too," Gandalf volunteered as the doors swung open. "Merry, of all people, was on the right track. The opening word was inscribed on the archway all the time. The translation should have been: _Say 'friend' and enter_. I had only to speak the Elvish word for _friend_ and the doors opened. Quite simple. Too simple for a learned lore-master in these suspicious days. Those were happier times."

And as the doors stood fully open, the fellowship got their first look at the long darkness of Moria.

--------------------------

With no small amount of trepidation, the fellowship entered the mines.

Gimli was practically skipping as they entered, gladly telling all who would listen about the comforts they should expect, "Soon, Master Elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves! Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone! This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin. And they call it a mine. A MINE!"

"It's a slaughterhouse." Buffy said, having stopped not two steps inside the door.

Boromir was only too quick to agree with her, "This is no mine. It is a tomb." he stated with horror.

Buffy shivered as she saw the dead Dwarves, "Okay, flesh. Anytime you want to stop crawling is okay with me." she said to herself and earned herself a small smile from a too white Frodo.

As Gimli saw the bodies of his kindred, rotting and covered in cobwebs, he lost it, "No! Nooo! NOOOO!" he roared.

Legolas took an arrow out of a dead body, examining it before tossing it aside in disgust, "Goblins!" he said in disgust.

Boromir would countenance no delay, "We make for the Gap of Rohan. We should never have come here! Now get out of here! Get out!!" he cried.

They only too readily followed his advice, but from nowhere as Frodo was exiting, a tentacle lashed out of the water and snatched up the Ring-bearer.

"Frodo!" Merry cried out in horror.

Buffy took one look and drew her sword, "Giant squid!" she muttered, "I _hate_ giant squid!"

Leaping into the water, she started to climb even as Pippin started to cry, "Frodo! Help!"

Frodo himself was screaming in the creature's grasp, "Strider!" he shouted, and Aragorn was horrified to see him in that position, especially when Sam echoed his master.

"Strider! Do something!" he bellowed and then the gardener charged the monster, crying "Get off him!"

Merry tried to hold Sam back, "Aragorn!" he shouted, calling for aid, even as the hobbits slashed at the creature with their swords, aided by Buffy who was stabbing it in the back.

For a split second they managed to free the captive hobbit and Pippin cried, "We got him! We got him!"

They all then got thrown back by one of the monster's many tentacles and Pippin wailed pitifully, "We don't got him!"

By now, the monster had a firm grip on Frodo and swung him high up in the air, waving him about madly, and ignoring the Ring-bearer's frightened cries.

Even as Legolas shot it with his bow, and Boromir and Aragorn entered the water, Buffy was rallying for her second assault but was caught around the middle by a tentacle and held underwater so that she had to concentrate on trying to free herself before she could worry about Frodo.

Boromir and Aragorn slashed at it with their swords, Andúril being particularly harmful to the creature as it was imbued with Elven runes of power. Aragorn's breath caught as he saw Buffy go underwater but he could only hold to his oath to help Frodo and it was left to Boromir to try and help Buffy if he was able.

At last Aragorn managed to hack off the tentacle holding Frodo and just barely managed to catch Frodo as he fell, back-pedalling madly as he withdrew from the water with his precious cargo.

As the creature screamed in outrage at the loss of one of its arms, Boromir took his chance to make it a loss of two. Slashing at the tentacle that held a madly struggling Buffy underwater, he wounded it enough for Buffy to be able to break free.

Breaking the surface of the water, she gasped in air, "Air. Sweet mother oxygen!" she gasped out, and then squealed when Boromir hauled her up by her tunic, and started dragging her towards the dubious shelter of the mines.

Propelled forward by the taller man, she scrambled to find her feet, sloshing through the water with all the grace of a elephant, "I _hate _it when they drown me." she swore, feeling exactly how waterlogged she was.

She did manage to snatch a terrified Pippin as Boromir dragged her along though, "Scream later! Escape now!" she ordered the hobbit, pushing him in front of her as Legolas's bow provided the cover they needed to escape.

Gandalf waved at them frantically from the doorway of the mines, "Into the mines!" he yelled.

Boromir glanced at the Elf, "Legolas! Into the cave! Get back!"

"Run!" Buffy said, adding her voice to the mix, as she, Pippin and Boromir dove through the West-gate, landing in an ungainly heap.

"I have never seen anything like that." Boromir said as he got up.

Buffy rubbed the bruise forming along her hip, "And I can go a long, healthy stretch without seeing anything like that again." she grumbled. "Everyone okay? All pieces intact?" she asked and then stopped to stare as the creature advanced out of the water. "We are so screwed," she gasped out.

They did not have time to do anything as it came towards them and in a fit of rage started upending everything around them, uprooting the two great trees to either side of the doors, and as the Dwarven doors slammed shut with an ominous clang, they heard the sounds of rubble and debris being piled up in front of it, blocking out all light.

And the way out.

Legolas suddenly became very popular as the hobbits gathered close to his faint Elven glow, the only light left in the hall.

But all of them shared the same sickening feeling as the sounds of rock shifting finally ceased.

They were trapped.

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**A/N:** So? What do you think? Opinions please! Please READ and REVIEW!!!!

And any lurkers out there are kindly encouraged to review!

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P.S - as I realise that when this site shuts down or acts up, it can be extremely frustrating for all involved, I would like to make it known that this fic is available at another site, and is updated at the same time as this. It will always be available there if there are any problems with this site. The sites name is: - and the link to both the site and my fic will be posted in my bio.

_Next chapter:_ Buffy gets a surprise… Gandalf's in trouble… and we get an insight into the Fellowships thoughts...

_Elvish:_

Sirannon - gate-stream

Dagnir - slayer

Undómiel - Evenstar

Imladris - Rivendell_Annon edhellen, edro hi ammen! Fennas nogothrim, lasto beth lammen! -_ Gate of the elves, open now for us! Doorway of the dwarves, listen to the word of my tongue!

_Lasto, annon edhellen, a edro ammen! - _Listen, gate of the elves, and open for us!

_Ando Eldarinwa a lasta quettanya, fenda Casarinwa! -_ Gate of Elves listen to my word, threshold of Dwarves!

Mellon - friend

Andúril - Flame of the West

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_Eregion -_ an Elven realm of the Second Age. Celebrimbor forged the Three Elven Rings here. Sauron laid waste to the city and its people, taking all the rings of power, and killing Celebrimbor and using his body as a banner.

_Mithril_ - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

_Moria_ - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

_Narvi_ - Dwarf of Khazad-dûm, maker of the West-Gate, close friend of Celebrimbor.

_Númenor_ - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

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	31. The Substance of Fire Part 2

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: I know it's a tiny bit shorter than the last one, but I had to end it there because the rest goes into the next chapter, which is jam packed!

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P.S - as I realise that when this site shuts down or acts up, it can be extremely frustrating for all involved, I would like to make it known that this fic is available at another site, and is updated at the same time as this. It will always be available there if there are any problems with this site. The sites name is: - Twisting the Hellmouth and the link to both the site and my fic will be posted in my bio.

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Review responses:

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - giving Elrond a heart attack is what she does on a daily basis.

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Anna - hi! And the Balrog is not the full surprise and not in this chapter. It is fire related though… yes, Legolas is getting all protective over his friends' virtues and more than slightly mad at Aragorn. Boromir hasn't figured out what Buffy is yet because Denethor didn't know that she was a slayer and nobody who knows has told Boromir yet. And I never said that Buffy saved Aragorn… yes, Lothlórien comes after Moria. (laughs) Just ignore the laughing, you'll find out why soon…

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BuffyandDracolover - because he doesn't know that Legolas likes Arwen.

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clcountry - I think everyone thinks that by now!

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Dragonstar - okay, I think this site is cutting out the last half of e-mail addresses! Because I still don't have yours! Please e-mail me or else post a comment on my livejournal so that I can get that way if it's not too much bother.

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FallenStar2 - why, thank you! Yes, Buffy and Aragorn finally got a moment together, it's a pity that it can't last without something interrupting them. Yes, Aragorn's little bombshell of a revelation should definitely throw Buffy and Legolas! And yes, Boromir is starting to realise that things are being kept from him and that he's not exactly the most trusted member of the Fellowship. And yes, painful is a good word to use…

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Goldenshadows - thanks! Yes, there will be a sequel, which I'm already working out the plot to. And Lórien is going to be interesting… that's all I'm saying.

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Haley - the wargs only took up a few pages so don't sweat it if you can't remember. And Boromir makes a habit of assuming too much. You can expect Legolas and Aragorn to have words and that is all I'm saying on the matter…

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Kit-Kat - yeah, if Aragorn suddenly started being in the land of the not dense I think Buffy would have a heart attack. And to quote myself 'Gandalf. Must. Die.'

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Lady Alathon - it means that he won't rush into things and blurt everything out at once. (eyes reviewer warily) what is this nasty idea you're harbouring or do I even want to know?

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Lady of the Wood - soon…

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Lunawolf - aww, come on! I would have liked to hear your idea on it!

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MiShA - Aragorn won't reveal anything to Buffy until after Moria. And the surprise should be good… very good…

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Pamie884 - I didn't realise that the Boromir and Legolas scene was so funny! And I know everyone wants Aragorn to spill the beans, but nothing's going to happen until after Moria. They are a little busy at the moment after all…

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Procrastinating - yes, I like to keep the updates regular and punctual. It stops all that nasty lynching of the author. And sorry but 'A Light to You' is discontinued. But I have other BtVS/LotR fics in the works, I promise!

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Rachel - I really don't know if you're being sarcastic or not…

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Restive nature - welcome back! :) I know, RL is such a nuisance. And you're right, I didn't want Buffy to take over the Watcher scene. I feel she's there to enhance the story with her own plots like every other character but she's not there to take over the story or Tolkien's work. Yes, Gimli and Legolas are constantly sniping at each other, a little childish but hey, everyone saw the scene at the Council of Elrond… and what's a glow-worm thingy?

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ShawThang - thanks! I'll update once a week until otherwise stated until about December 22 or 23 and from then on you'll probably have them twice a week or so until about January 7.

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Sierra-Falls - both types. I do hope your day got better though!

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Sparky24 - hi! Things are coming together but they're also coming apart… and yes, the Golden Wood should be _very_ interesting….

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Star - thanks! Legolas is only in the dark for the moment, don't worry! And Moria should be super exciting. I have a big surprise planned for Gandalf and co. And it's nice to see that Boromir is growing on people.

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Trickster-jz - thanks for all your nice comments! I'm glad that you like it!

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Vik - wicked man? I so hope you weren't referring to me! I'm a woman!

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Wild320 - thanks! And don't worry, Buffy and Legolas will find out eventually.

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And major thanks to:

Fairieangel, ms8309, Night-Owl123, vixen519,

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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: THE SUBSTANCE OF FIRE PART TWO

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The West-gate of Moria, 3019, TA. January 13 , - Night.

Even as the last showers of dust fell upon them, they knew that they were trapped. The only way out was blocked off, and they were stuck in this Dwarven tomb, with no certainty of coming out the other side.

Gandalf fitted a stone onto the end of his staff, producing a narrow beam of light outwards from it, "We now have but one choice." he said gravely, "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the world."

Even as Buffy shuddered, Gandalf was continuing, "Quietly now. It's a four-day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence may go unnoticed."

"I swear, when I find out who's responsible for this huge cosmic joke, heads are gonna roll." Buffy said even as Aragorn linked their hands together, holding her hand tightly in his to offer her comfort against her own memories.

This simple gesture comforted them both and they started to pay attention to the conversation of the others ahead.

"The passage is blocked behind us now, and there is only one way out - on the other side of the mountains." Gandalf was saying, leading the way with his lighted staff.

"I felt that something terrible was near from the moment my foot touched the water," Frodo said, trembling slightly, "What was the thing, or were there many of them?"

"I do not know," answered Gandalf, his expression solemn and disturbed, "But the arms were all guided by one purpose. Something has crept, or been driven out of dark waters under the mountains. There are older and much more terrible things than orcs in the darker places of the world." He did not speak aloud his thought that whatever it was that dwelt in the lake, it had seized Frodo first among all the company.

Boromir muttered curses and other things under his breath, but the echoing stone magnified the sound to a hoarse whisper that all could hear, "In the deep places of the world! And thither we are going against my wish! Who will lead us now in the deadly dark?"

"I will," said Gandalf, spearing the man with a deadly look, "And Gimli shall walk with me. Follow my staff!" he called.

From behind him, even the wizard had to chuckle at Buffy's next grumbling sentence, "If we die in here, I'm gonna kick your ass. I mean it!"

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Gandalf's Point of View (POV)

'_If the mountain defeats you, will you risk a more dangerous road?_' Saruman's taunt haunted him still.

He had not been able to best the other wizard; the head of their order that seemed to have shattered until it left only him sworn to their original purpose, and because of this failure he had lost his only option to avoid the dangers of Khazad-dûm.

He had not been insensible to the power of Aragorn and Buffy's warnings. When the future King of Men, and the Vampire Slayer herself told you the same thing, you were a wise person to take their word on it.

But even though he had made a dangerous choice, he knew that it was the only one left to them. And it was now out of their control anyway, through the intervention of the watcher in the water.

But he could not shift his mind away from Aragorn's warning, intermingled with Saruman's gleeful taunts.

He knew that even one such as he might meet his match here.

And sometimes knowing the history of Middle Earth brought more harm than good, as he knew all too well what had originally befallen the Dwarves who had once held this as their most impressive stronghold.

'_Moria... You fear to go into those mines. The Dwarves delved too greedily and too deep. You know what they awoke there in the darkness of Khazad-dûm… Shadow and flame…_'

Unbidden, his eyes fell to the ring finger of his right hand and he deeply felt the irony embedded in his fate.

Shadow and flame indeed.

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Legolas's POV

The dark, dank walls felt like they were closing in on him as his mind replayed that final, dreadful clang of the doors slamming irrevocably shut. Trapping him in these thrice damned mines.

He had not been prepared for the attack from the water, but then again, none of them had ever dreamed the dank lake harboured such a creature as that.

But he could not help but shudder as he realised what the creature had doomed him to; four days at least of traversing this festering darkness without hope of light or any growing thing. He was a Wood Elf by nature and his father had thought him at an early age to draw strength from living things, but here this place was barren.

And filled with malice. The very walls seethed with it.

For a moment, he thought longingly of Arwen, who had taken it upon herself in Rivendell to entreat him to stay at the bequest of his father, and he took comfort in the memory of her gentle smile and biting wit. Shaking his head sadly, he pushed her out of his mind; - he had no right to think of her that way, especially when she had only been doing his father a kindness.

And if only his father could see him now… Legolas was sure that an 'I told you so Greenleaf' would be a very heavy feature of that conversation. Eru only knows how he would have reacted to his son travelling through the mines of Moria.

He trusted Gandalf's ability to lead them to safety, and he knew well of Buffy's great abilities to sense danger coming, and in this group, they not only had three people who had passed through these halls but a Dwarf of Durin's line as well. There could not be a better company for this endeavour.

But if that was so, then why was a shadow of foreboding lurking at the edge of his mind?

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Frodo's POV

Safely sandwiched between the duo of Gandalf and Gimli, and his loyal friend Sam, Frodo tried to squash the fear that dwelt inside him.

Still damp from his untimely sojourn into the lake, with that… that _thing_, he could not forget the incident, nor the fact that the Ring had seemed almost... gleeful when the creature had had him in its grasp.

And now, partly through his choice and definitely due to his presence, the company were forced to endure this toil because of him.

He could not help but feel guilty at causing anyone harm, and terror at what could be awaiting them in these abandoned halls. Even though his dear Sam tried his best to keep his spirits up, he could not help but feel depressed and overwhelmed in this encompassing darkness that seemed to stretch on forever.

As he followed in the wizard's wake, he could not help but feel panic rise up within him at his undertaking, accepted by his own words and his stupid stupid mouth!

How could he, one lowly hobbit, accomplish such a thing as to destroy the One Ring of Power?

Especially when he could feel its sibilant voice forever digging ever deeper into his mind….

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Boromir's POV

Boromir could not help but feel anger as he trudged along the stone halls, occasionally stepping on an old bone or arrow that crunched underfoot with a sickening snap.

Against his wishes, they had entered the mines and how he had been right, even if it was not wolves that had trapped them! They had been very effectively trapped between the walls and the creature that seemed to stalk the lake.

And so they had been forced to enter this tomb of Dwarves, and even he, far away in Gondor, had heard tales of this treacherous place. Those who went in, did not come out again.

And yet, here they were, striding forward into unknown darkness. Sometimes he wondered if he was cursed.

Not only was he stuck in these damned mines, he also had to contend with being constantly upstaged by the man who claimed to be his king. It would be enough to drive a lesser man into the pits of despair but Boromir would not let it claim him.

He would survive this, and return to his homeland and fight for his people.

And no one, not even a pretender to an extinct throne, would stop him saving Minas Tirith, his only home and the only love of his heart.

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Aragorn's POV

Even though he knew that he should be concentrating on the daunting task ahead of them, Aragorn could not help his mind straying to thoughts of Buffy's small, warm hand tightly encased in his.

He was burning for her, and yet not in a situation to make himself known or even to explain even half the complicated situation that was his current predicament to Buffy properly, and his own frustration was slowly killing him.

He could not believe that he had been blind for so long.

His feelings at Arwen's admittedly gentle sundering of their relationship had started in anger and resentment, and had eventually passed into begrudging acceptance, but as time went on he began to see that the Elf Lady was once again right.

While he had loved Arwen deeply and she would always hold a place in his heart, he had never felt so violently in love with her as the feelings being with Buffy brought out in him. He had never been able to regard a woman as fully his equal, both off the battlefield and on it for Arwen had ever been sheltered from the darker things in the world by her father and brothers, but the ever courageous Buffy was able to take such things in her stride and challenge him to go even further.

It was a novel experience and one that he was gradually coming to realise that he enjoyed immensely.

Buffy could infuriate him just as much as she could comfort him, and this constant source of novelty into their relationship ensured that it was never a boring thing.

As his feelings for Arwen were dampened and put in their proper place by time, distance and understanding, he could feel his feelings for the besieged Vampire Slayer grow deeper by the day.

He could safely say that he was in love with her, and falling harder with every realisation that hit him, and he longed to take her into his arms and tell her so but was bound by time, circumstances and convention.

Not to mention his dear friend Legolas's extreme offence on behalf of his friend Arwen. He almost sighed; it was a deep and tangled mess that he was in. And there was no way he could profess his feelings for Buffy and ask permission to court her until the debacle that was his nullified betrothal was cleared up without any doubt.

And then he could woo Buffy in the way he should have many decades ago, and when the time was right, he would do something that he was certain that would secure his, - and hopefully her's as well, - future happiness.

And ask her if she would be his wife.

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Buffy's POV

Buffy really couldn't believe that this was happening to her again.

Through long and often painful experience, she knew all too well that dark underground places of ill repute were just prime gathering grounds for all sorts of nasties.

The rest of the company were all disquieted, lost in their own thoughts and fears, and she honestly wasn't much better.

Aragorn was holding her hand in an effort to comfort her, and she appreciated it deeply but always her mind returned to what the Ring had blatantly threatened her with - his death.

She wasn't sure if she could hack it; sending Angel to hell had almost ruined her and she had only known him two years at the time. But Aragorn she had known for decades, and her feelings went deeper than any she had ever experienced before.

She honestly didn't know what she would do if she lost him.

Especially if his death was only to get to her.

Aragorn had a life ahead of him; and a good one too if he survived this war. He would be King of Gondor, and would never have to wander the wilds hunting out monsters again. He would be for the most part safe.

She would never have that luxury.

And even though she loved Arwen like a sister, she could not help but feel intense jealousy at what the Elf Lady would receive when the war ended.

The Queen bit she didn't really care about, but Arwen would have Aragorn forever, deeply in love with her and snagging one of the few men who didn't mind if they were upstaged by their girlfriend or lover or wife.

She had never really had that; even with Angel, they couldn't be equals, forever running the risk of making his soul go bye bye yet again. After he had miraculously come back, things had never been the same. And Buffy had lost the only person who could even attempt to understand her.

But she knew she could have been happy with Aragorn; he didn't need her to look after him but he didn't take offence when she did either, didn't go all macho about having a woman help him like Riley had. Due to growing up with the Elves, he had the understanding, rare in this world, that men and women were equal, and that he didn't have to prove himself to her or vice versa.

It was different and very nice, and she had to admit that she had grown used to it.

In this world, she didn't have to hide her abilities; fighting went on every day somewhere and she could quite happily go around with a sword strapped to her hip and a bow on her back and no one would blink an eye.

She had even found a surrogate family in Galadriel and the House of Elrond, all of whom accepted her as she was, who didn't resent her, didn't betray her, and whom she could genuinely admire.

But despite all of the knowledge, strength and friends that she had gained since coming to Middle Earth, she still wanted to be loved and it hurt so badly that Arwen had so easily gotten what she so dearly wanted.

Maybe it would be better if she could just disappear after Aragorn and Arwen's wedding. It would hurt too much otherwise to be around them, watching them be so happy and she always feeling the sting of intense jealousy rising up within her.

She was sure that Elrond or Galadriel would help her if she wanted to, and she wasn't the type of girl who could stand by forever and watch her heart break. She just wasn't strong enough.

Besides her heart had already been battered to a bloody pulp too many times to do anything else.

But on the other hand, she didn't know how she could leave them; they were such good friends to her.

She held back a sigh; she'd just have to wait and see if she survived this first.

Only then could she worry about what in the name of Arda she was going to do with her life when the dark lord wasn't around no more and the Elves left for the West.

After all, there wouldn't be much need for a Vampire Slayer then…

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The Mines of Moria , 3019 TA, January, 14 , - Dawn.

Of course, their hopes for a quiet trip had to be dashed.

Just before dawn that day, Pippin once more put his foot in it.

Having been annoying Merry by throwing small rocks and pebbles at him, the hobbit chose the wrong rock to yank at. Stumbling into a loose shale wall, Pippin somehow managed in prime Took-ish fashion to destabilise the roof above their heads, and he gulped at the ominous rumble that sounded overhead.

Luckily enough, the collapse was small, and did not block any important passage, nor did it crash into any of the company, but it filled the halls with a thick dust that made breathing hard and enough noise to certainly wake something up.

"Well, I'd say this qualifies for a worst-timing-ever award." Buffy choked out, coughing madly.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf cried, banging a hang-dog Pippin on the head with his staff. "Crush yourself next time and save me the bother!"

"Save it Gandalf. Better to light a candle than curse the damn darkness." Buffy said profoundly, then paused as if sensing the others did not understand, "Well, get on with it Gandalf. Make with the light!"

Gandalf harrumphed but the familiar glow appeared on the top of his staff.

"Obviously, this mine is a disaster waiting to happen." Legolas said shakily.

"There is no equal to Dwarven craftsmanship!" Gimli defended stoutly, glaring at the Elf.

"Gimli, as much as I appreciate the Dwarves' work. They built Demonsville." Buffy said, "Lay off Legolas." She then shuddered, "Anybody else feel that?"

"What?" Aragorn asked.

"The cold draft of paralysing fear?" Buffy said, "Something heard that. Let's get moving!" She glared at Gandalf who was studying the halls with something resembling fascination, "Isn't there something you should be doing right about now? Like _getting us out of here_!" she snapped.

"Buffy," Aragorn said in admonishment, "I do not think he could feel any worse over this course."

"Let's test that theory." Buffy said, "Because I'm not standing around waiting for the baddies to come looking."

And so the Fellowship continued on for some time, until they came to an opening, where there were three passages to choose from.

Gandalf stopped and then said, "I have no memory of this place."

"Are we lost?" Pippin asked bluntly.

"No," Merry replied impatiently.

"I think we are!" Pippin insisted, while Merry tried to quieten him.

"Shhh! Gandalf's thinking." he said.

"Merry…" the younger hobbit said.

"What?"

"I'm hungry."

"Oh for the love of the Green Dragon!" Merry exclaimed and stormed off with a, "Shut up Pip!" for good measure.

But Aragorn still took it upon himself to reassure him as Gandalf pondered, "Do not be afraid!" he said as Gandalf and Gimli whispered together; the others were crowded behind, waiting anxiously. "Do not be afraid! I have been with him on many a journey, if never on one so dark; and there are tales of Rivendell of greater deeds of his than any I have seen. He will not go astray - if there is any path to find. He has led us in here against our fears, but he will lead us out again, at whatever cost to himself."

"Then why are you afraid?" Pippin asked with his characteristic boldness and Aragorn could not reply.

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Hall Twenty-One, The Mines of Moria, 3019, TA. January 14 , - Night.

At last, Gandalf stood up and called the company to him, starting to walk down one passage. "He's remembered." Merry said with relief.

Gandalf's bushy eyebrows twitched, "No, but the air does not smell so foul down here. If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose." he said, "Let me risk a little more light."

The light on his staff brightens and the fellowship found themselves in a great hallway, with tall pillars as far as the eye could see. "Behold the great realm of the Dwarf-city of Dwarrowdelf." Gandalf said.

"There's an eye opener, and no mistake!" Sam exclaimed as he looked around.

But both Buffy and Aragorn were ghostly pale as Buffy remembered her own flight through this large chamber. "Are we to sleep here?" she asked shakily.

"Only a fool would sleep soundly in this place." Legolas said before Gandalf could answer, "'Tis too exposed. We need somewhere smaller."

Gandalf agreed and after some searching, to the left of a great arch they found a stone door; it was half closed, but swung back easily with a gentle push. Beyond there seemed to be a wide chamber cut into the very rock itself.

"Steady! Steady!" cried Gandalf as Merry and Pippin pushed forward, glad to find a place where they could rest with at least more feeling of shelter than an open passage. "Steady! You do not know what is inside yet. I will go first."

He went in cautiously and the others filed behind, "There!" he said in vindication, pointing with his staff to a large dark hole in the middle of the floor.

"One of you might have fallen in and still be wondering when you were going to reach the bottom," said Aragorn to Merry, with a wry grin, "Let the guide go first while you have one."

But they were only laying down their bedrolls, Buffy's arms shaking slightly as she did so, when Pippin got bored, and started dropping stones down the hole in the floor. They all turned to look when they heard the ominous thudding.

At first it was the pitter patter of rock on rock but then far below, as if the stone had fallen into deep water in some cavernous place, there came a plunk, very distant, but magnified and repeated in the hollow shaft.

"What's that?!" Gandalf cried in surprise. He was relieved when Pippin confessed what he had done but he was angry and Pippin could see his eye glinting. "Fool of a Took!" he growled angrily, "This is a serious journey, not a hobbit walking-party. Throw yourself in next time, and then you will be no further nuisance. Now be quiet!"

Nothing more was heard for several minutes, but then there came out of the depths faint knocks; tom-tap, tap-tom. They stopped, and when the echoes had died away they were repeated; tap-tom, tom-tap, tap-tap, tom. They sounded disquietingly like signals of some sort; but after a while the knocking died away and was not heard again.

"Well, that can't be good." Buffy said with false bravado.

"That was the sound of a hammer, or I have never heard one," Gimli said with dreadful certainty.

"Yes," Gandalf agreed, his expression troubled, "And I do not like it. It may have nothing to do with Peregrin's foolish stone; but probably something has been disturbed that would have been better left quiet. Pray, do nothing of the kind again! Let us hope we shall get some rest without further trouble. You, Pippin, can go on the first watch, as a reward." he growled and rolled himself in a blanket.

The hobbit could only look dejectedly at the hole, before sighing and throwing himself down to take the watch.

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But as the watches changed, rotating until it was Buffy's turn at last, Gandalf awoke from his light sleep and went to her.

Without preamble he took her aside, where the sleeping ears of the company could not hear them, "I must speak to you Slayer," he said urgently.

Sensing the distress in his tone, she agreed readily, "What's up Gandalf?" she asked.

"Forgive me," he said and placing his hands on either side of Buffy's head, he muttered an incantation.

The change came almost at once.

Buffy's eyes glazed over, locked in a forced vision, and after a moment, unseeing eyes locked onto Gandalf's, "He is here. Waiting. He hungers for blood, to take your life. Can you defeat him little fool? Or will shadow and flame consume you through your once brother?" she sneered, her accent changing.

Gandalf sighed and nodded, his suspicions confirmed, and broke the spell. It only confirmed what he already knew deep within.

Shaking off the last vestiges of the vision as she came back to herself, Buffy's eyes narrowed and she looked fit to skewer the wizard. "How dare you ----!" she exclaimed, only to be silenced by Gandalf's hand across her mouth.

Knocking it off rapidly, she took the hint to be quiet and instead gave him her version of a death glare, which informed him that if he did not explain himself, he would be in for a beating.

"I am sorry I had to do such a thing, Buffy," Gandalf whispered apologetically, "But I had to know. And only you would have been able to take the spell without harm. Danger stalks us, and I had to know its cause. Again, I apologise for the manner in which I did so, but do allow me to explain."

She nodded shortly, "I'm waiting," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

The wizard sighed, and began to speak of his dilemma, and about the evil he knew was coming for him, until he felt her own anxiety nearly matched his own, and that he had explained his situation clearly.

"So we're being hunted, you feel someone's already let on that we've arrived, and that some really nasty baddie is coming to kill us all if it catches us? Delightful." Buffy summed up.

Gandalf looked at the woman, and decided that he had to do this, he had to take this chance. To do otherwise was to condemn not only himself, but Elrond and Galadriel, and their realms of Imladris and Lórien. "Things feel ill my young slayer, things go ill indeed. And I must now entrust you with a heavy burden."

Buffy studied the weary wizard, "I'm almost afraid to ask at this point. But I sincerely hope its not that hat of yours. I do have some fashion sense thank you very much."

"No Buffy, it is not a hat." He held out his closed hand, unfurling his fingers to reveal a golden ring set with a ruby. His voice dropped below even a whisper, "This is Narya, one of the three Elven rings. You must keep it safe."

She gasped in disbelief, "You're a Ringbearer!" She stared at him for a moment, "Okay, how come I didn't know? I mean I figured out the other two!"

"You must take it for me, Buffy." Gandalf said urgently, with an almost fervent desperation, "You must guard it and then deliver it unto the Lady Galadriel for me. I cannot risk it falling into the hands of the Enemy. You must take it!"

"It was entrusted to you. I cannot take it. I'm no Elf." Buffy said, refuting him, "I can't take it. Don't do this to me Gandalf!"

"But of all here you are strong enough to defend it." the wizard replied.

"I'm not strong!" Buffy denied furiously, "The Ring calls me so badly. I'm too risky to give this too!"

"Do you think that the Ring calls only you?!" Gandalf replied with just as much passion, "It calls all of us but some are better able to understand its evil than others; you are such a person. Take it!"

"Can't you give it to Legolas?" Buffy tried, "At least he's an Elf. And you know they won't kill him for having it like they would a mortal that they'll probably think stole it!"

"He would be one of the first to be suspected and Aragorn has too much to protect as it is. It has to be you." Gandalf insisted. "I cannot risk it falling into the Enemy's hands if I should fall."

"And neither can I!" Buffy said, "I don't exactly have a safe job Gandalf! Give it to one of the others if you must, but don't do this to me."

Gandalf grabbed her hand and forced Narya into it, closing her fingers around it, "It is your charge now, Buffy Dagnir," he said with dreadful authority, "Keep it secret and keep it safe. Tell no one, not even your closest friends that you bear this. Its only safety lies in the utmost secrecy."

She looked at her hand, at the golden ring with a red stone set in the band, radiating power and warmth. Narya. The Ring of Fire. And now she had to be a Ringbearer, just like poor Frodo, and joining the ranks of Gandalf, Galadriel, Gil-galad, Elrond and Círdan, who she must feel so inferior too. At least they had known what to do with the cursed thing.

And as Gandalf realised that she would do this for him, he left her, and returned to his sleep, with the rest of the company none the wiser to the changing of the guard that had occurred in so many ways that night.

But Buffy sat for a long time in the darkened corner, watching the play of fire in the red stone, until at last, she slipped it onto her finger, and knew that even as she saw it as clear as day, none other could, unless they be a bearer of another of the Three.

Feeling the rush of warmth and confidence, the power that was entrenched in this flaming ring, she shuddered slightly.

Gandalf had just put her piggy in the middle when it came to the battle of the Rings of Power, entrusting this one to her to carry, and she honestly didn't have a clue as to what she was going to do with it.

It was like the situation with the Key all over again.

The only problem was, she didn't know if she had the strength or the will to see it through this time around.

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When Buffy's watch was over, replaced by Aragorn, and she had at last sunk into a fitful sleep, the ranger mulled things over in his mind as he kept watch on the slumbering company.

But as time went by, he saw Frodo and Buffy growing more and more troubled in their sleep, and finally, he could ignore it no longer.

Waking the stout Samwise, he asked him to care for Frodo while he dealt with Buffy.

"No! That's not the way out!" he heard Buffy mumble in her sleep and with a burst of sudden clarity, he realised that she was having nightmares about her time in Moria.

While Frodo muttered about the Ring and shining eyes in the dark as Sam tried to calm his sleep, Buffy was fighting off invisible foes in a way that almost made Aragorn's heart break for her. The poor woman never got a break, was always in one dangerous situation or another and was expected to come out on top every time. It had to be a hard life.

Careful not to wake her, he gathered her close and rocked her gently until she started to calm down, and the distressed furrow of her brow melt away as dreaming subsided into a deep sleep.

And as she burrowed closer to him when her rest quietened, he held her close and vowed that one day, she would be in his arms and he would never let her go.

But even though it was a rare bliss on this journey to hold her close, there was always that niggling doubt in the back of his mind that said something was wrong.

And that something was going to take her away from him.

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A/N: So? What do you think? Opinions please! Please READ and REVIEW!!!!

And any and all lurkers out there are kindly encouraged to review!

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P.S - as I realise that when this site shuts down or acts up, it can be extremely frustrating for all involved, I would like to make it known that this fic is available at another site, and is updated at the same time as this. It will always be available there if there are any problems with this site. The sites name is: - Twisting the Hellmouth and the link to both the site and my fic will be posted in my bio.

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Next chapter: Buffy's getting worse… the Fellowship run into a slight bit of bother… and there's fire in the hole… it's an action packed chapter next people!

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Elvish:

Dagnir - slayer

Imladris - Rivendell

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Círdan - also called 'the Shipwright'. Lord of the Grey Havens. The only Elf with a beard.

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Eregion - an Elven realm of the Second Age. Celebrimbor forged the Three Elven Rings here. Sauron laid waste to the city and its people, taking all the rings of power, and killing Celebrimbor and using his body as a banner.

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Gil-galad - Last High King of the Noldor. King of Lindon. Died during the final battle of the Last Alliance.

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Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Narvi - Dwarf of Khazad-dûm, maker of the West-Gate, close friend of Celebrimbor.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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	32. Shadow and Flame

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: thanks for all the reviews! And a word of advice; please remember that if you actually kill me you will never find out how this ends… In addition, I cannot say how shocked I am at the response to the last chapter. Oh boy, that was barely a wind up for this one!

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P.S - this is the longest chapter so far! Be prepared! Anyone with a weak heart, please take caution.

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Review responses:

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - okay, Celebrimbor made the Three Elven Rings. Functions: all of them hold back the passing of time and decay; all can ease minds and spirits and defend their respective bearers and realms. Individual functions go as follows: Narya - Ring of Fire. Kindles hope, warmth and strength in people's hearts. Amplifies abilities already there. Nenya - the Ring of Water or Adamant. Again amplifies abilities but I am unsure of what other abilities Tolkien gave it. However, a safe bet is that the Mirror of Galadriel was tied to it, for example, the visions she was able to give to other people who did not have foresight. Vilya - the Ring of Air and strongest of the Three. Again amplifies abilities. Exact use undetermined. But helps Elrond to control the Bruinen.

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Anna - thank you! Still not quite getting the 'watching her back' thing. Not entirely but by the end of this chapter, you will. Pippin is a huge nuisance in the books, always messing up everything. And yes, I have done most of my Christmas shopping. I like to be organised.

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BuffyandDracoLover - only other bearers could see Nenya and Vilya as well. Otherwise, everyone would know who had them.

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Cassie-bear01 - no, definitely never had that conversation.

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Catgirl Elf Princess - sorry, 'A Light to you' is discontinued.

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ChibiChibi - no, nothing happened with Narya in the books. That was all me. The warg attacks were in the books though. When is Aragorn going to tell? Soon enough I suppose, sooner for some than others though and some maybe not ever. And 'hectic' is an understatement.

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clcountry - reserve judgement away. Moreover, I try to make a point of do things that have not been done before.

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Draco's Slytherin Vampiress - move cities? Wow.

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Dragonstar - to stop this site from cutting this out. I'm writing out my e-mail in words. It is: - calia underscore erin at yahoo dot co dot uk.

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Eámanë Aldaríon - Mae govannen mellon nín! And no, Sauron hasn't forgotten her. Watch that space. Also, I think that Gandalf had to know that the odds were stacked together against him in Moria. And Aragorn has other problems at the moment than telling Buffy as you will see by the end of this chapter! But Legolas will find out soon enough, within the next chapter or two. And yes, Galadriel will come back into the story with a bang during the Lórien scenes and after. I haven't forgotten about her! And you're reviews are _always_ a treat! :)

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Emerald sorceress - thanks! And yes, definitely not a great time to start spilling the beans. How will Buffy feel? Read on and find out. And Pippin? A dimwit? That's not entirely fair.

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Fairieangel - yeah, the different POV was a new thing for me.

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FallenStar2 - it was meant to be a surprise. Gandalf did have a point about Aragorn; if it came down to losing Buffy and Sauron regaining the One Ring, what choice would he have? If Buffy had Narya, then is Sauron got the One, she would be lost to him anyway. Of course, Aragorn knows he is in a mess. He just does not know the size of the mess yet. No, he does not have any idea how Buffy is suffering. You teared up? Oh my god. I so didn't expect that. And I DO like long reviews. And your best case scenario is not too bad but what is your worst case scenario? And can it match mine?…

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goldenshadows - eight months? Gosh, you are right! Where does the time go?

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Haley - thanks! He was still confused until this point. But don't worry; at the end of the chapter, there is a sure-fire way of seeing exactly how much he has depended on her…

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Lady Alathon - ...interesting.. Review. Definitely did not know about the ducks.

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Lady of the Wood - soon enough. And Aragorn's thoughts are meant to torment you. And if the suspense is killing you now…

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Lizdarcy2 - interesting question. But you will have to wait and see.

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Locathah - maybe… but you'll see the difficulties at the end of this part…

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Lunawolf - pity. The Buffy and Aragorn thing gets a new spanner in the works soon.

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Malfeus - hope? Not in this chapter! Probable pain was a good guess though.

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MiShA - easy on her? I never go easy on her!

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narmolanya - not for much longer though.

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Northern Ranger - stop the cliffhangers? Oh dear, wait until you see this chapter!

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Sabia - thanks! Glad to know my translations and keys are getting good use!

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Sierra-Falls - I am not sure I want to read into what you meant by that…

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Sparky24 - no, Narya has nothing to do with the 'foreshadowing of doom'.

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Star - thanks! Interesting thoughts on the Buffy/Aragorn situation. Certainty? Not something in abundance in this fic. Especially this section.

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And major thanks to:

Agent-G, BB, Libitina De Averna, Night-Owl123, Selene, slayer girl, The Unholy Alliance, Vik, Wild320, Zayra,

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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: SHADOW AND FLAME

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"For something to live, something must be sacrificed."

-The X-Files Game-

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Hall Twenty-One, the Mines of Moria, January 15, 3019, TA. Early morning, before dawn.

As the pre dawn light broke through the dark in the outside world; inside the darkness of Khazad-dûm, Gandalf roused the fellowship from their sleep.

No light filtered through the dark stone but the canny wizard knew well the time, and wanted them to complete what would hopefully be their second last march through the mines and then they would hopefully see daylight again.

Buffy had woken up to find herself tightly encased in Aragorn's arms, and had mercifully found him to be asleep so that she could stealthily slip out of his embrace without waking him, but she had not been able to escape Legolas's sharp eyes, which unknown to her had been studying them for most of his watch.

Neither Aragorn nor Buffy had mentioned the incident, - yet, but Buffy felt uncomfortable around the ranger, who seemed to be tactfully not mentioning the as of yet unknown to her reason as to why exactly they had ended up as they did.

But as the light once more flared at the top of Gandalf's gnarled staff, and the shadow of the wizard's pointed hat flickered along the walls, the fellowship got under way once more.

Buffy tried to nonchalantly pretend that she did not notice when Legolas discreetly sidled up beside her, and just as nonchalantly tried to ignore the pair of grey eyes that bored into her from the rear.

But the Elf Prince was not content to leave Buffy to her musings and increasingly implausible reasons as to why and how she had ended up in Aragorn, the 'betrothed to Arwen' Aragorn's arms.

"He has been trying to speak with you," Legolas said quietly, making sure to be unheard by the others, and Buffy had no doubt at all who he meant.

"Well, I don't want to talk to him, or you for that matter," Buffy replied equally quietly, steadily refusing to look at him.

"You seemed quite… cosy last night," Legolas said reprovingly.

"Since I don't know how that happened," Buffy said sharply, "Don't get up on your high horse Greenleaf. I don't know what the hell he was thinking. If you want to interrogate someone, go ask Aragorn. Who knows what that man does things for?"

"You generally have an idea most of the time," Legolas replied, "Else you would not be as close as you are, for he would not be yet living."

"Aragorn is his own man. What he does is not any of my business." Buffy said.

"But you care for him…"

"God, Legolas! Listen, I'm not going to betray Arwen whatever happens so just lay off it would you?" Buffy hissed in frustration, "If he's acting weird, it's not my problem or my fault so stop looking at me like that!"

"Do the nightmares bother you much?" the chagrined Elf asked.

Buffy stared at him, wondering where this had come from and how had he noticed, "What nightmares?" she asked cautiously.

"The one that drove Aragorn to comfort you." Legolas replied, "Did you not know? You were restless on Aragorn's watch, and he sought to calm you."

So that was what had happened. Once more, Aragorn got to see Buffy lose it. What absolute joy, Buffy thought sarcastically.

"You did not know," Legolas stated, reading Buffy's conflicted expression, "Then I am sorry for bringing this matter to you, mellon nín, (my friend)." He studied her carefully, thoughtfully, "Are you well Buffy?"

She smiled at him, a wan, strained smile, took a breath and then lied through her teeth, "I'm fine," she said, intending never to tell anyone about her problems. She had already said too much to Aragorn, and look at the result; - he was watching her like he was her babysitter.

He looked at her, not believing her words, but let her be and gracefully backed off, but not before feeling the need to warn her against the dangers of her own despair and divided attention, "I must tell you to beware Dagnir (slayer)," he whispered, "A dark shadow is growing in my mind."

That achingly false wan smile never wavered, as if it were a mask of flesh that covered her true face with this false one, "I know," she replied, "It's in mine too. It has always been there. Always. And it's coming for us…"

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The Chamber of Mazarbul, the mines of Moria, 3019 TA, January 15.

They were crossing the grand open space of Hall Twenty-One, cautioned to silence by Gandalf, and for most of them too deep in awe to say much anyway; but in four cases, the people concerned only knew fear.

Gandalf knew that they were dangerously exposed walking the huge and shadowed expanse of the hall; Buffy and Aragorn were lost in memory, remembering exactly what had come after them in this hall once before; and Legolas eyeing the dark span of the Dwarven hall with distaste and no little unease.

But Gimli Glóin's son was blissfully unaware of this and so when he spotted a doorway to the side of the hall, and when he saw the bodies of dead orcs outside the doors, he ran towards the open door to investigate.

Gandalf spotted him first and cried out, "Gimli!" but it was too late, Gimli had rushed into the chamber and the rest of the fellowship were forced to follow in his wake, Gandalf leading the way, holding his pointed hat atop his head to stop it falling off as he jogged after the Dwarf.

Gimli was devastated at the sight before him when they caught up with him; his normally proud shoulders drooping and his leathered face weeping, "No! Oh, no! No!" he cried.

The room they were in was filled with destruction; bodies and discarded weapons mixing with the remnants of old rubble. It was a grim sight. As it had obviously been a grim end for those who had been here before.

Gandalf was perhaps the only one to understand the Dwarf's plight, being the only one to be able to read the Dwarven letters. He approached the large stone tomb in the room, "_Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria_." he read, "He is dead then. It is as I feared." The wizard sighed, looked at the grieving Dwarf, and then handed Merry his staff to hold for him.

Gimli seemed to come out of his stupor at that moment, and whispered a quiet Dwarven prayer over the tomb of his cousin, "Kilmin malur ni zaram kalil ran arag. Kheled-zâram. Balin tazlifi…"

Legolas eyed the chamber with suspicion and wariness and he spoke to Aragorn under his breath, "We must move on. We cannot linger." he warned.

The ranger grimaced, "I know, but Gandalf is the guide. It must be he who leads us out. And I dare say that Gimli will not be gainsaid."

Ignoring the intense stares of Buffy, Aragorn and Legolas, Gandalf reached for the book in the hands of the skeleton of a dead Dwarf, and he flicked through the crumbling pages.

"It is grim reading," Gandalf said, expression as grim as his words, "I fear their end was cruel. Listen!" he said, and began to read aloud, the horrible words soon earning the rapt attention of the others, "_'We cannot get out. We cannot get out. They have taken the Bridge and second hall. Frár and Lóni and Náli fell there…. We have barred the gates but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep... We cannot get out…_' I cannot read the rest, but the last lines run, '_The pool is up to the wall at the Westgate. The Watcher in the Water took Óin. We cannot get out. A Shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. The end comes…' _and then_, 'drums, drums in the deep…. They are coming…_.'"

Both Slayer and ranger felt lumps grow in the pits of their stomachs as Gandalf read from the book, the words 'Drums, drums in the deep…' having deep connotations with them. Boromir noticed it and asked if they were alright.

"No, we're all in serious trouble. We have to get out of here." Buffy said quietly, pulling a dagger from the waistband of her pants. "Be ready. Arm yourself." she said authoritively, even as she felt her own fear mount that history was repeating itself all over again.

Pippin, curious as ever, had been prowling around unwatched by the others and he touched a skeleton by a well, which fell in, dragging with it a large bucket on a metal chain, making horrible scraping and clanging noises as it tipped and fell. For a long moment there was silence; the rest of the company listening to the increasingly duller clanks and bangs from the well in horror.

Gandalf slammed the book closed and wheeled around at the sound, his hat wavering precariously on his head, "Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity!" he snapped, visibly angry at Pippin's foolishness and recklessness.

But then his attention was diverted by something much more sinister.

The rest of the Fellowship looked at her startled, as Buffy started to whip her head around, frantically trying to pinpoint the source that had set off her slayer sense. Cocking her head to the side, her eyes widened in dawning realisation and a visible shudder went through her as she registered what the thing that had attracted her full attention was, "Drums in the deep..." she whispered through a suddenly dry mouth.

This attracted the company's undivided attention.

"What did you say?" Gandalf questioned with a sense of horrible dread welling within him.

Legolas, having heard the whispered warning was already listening for anything unusual; he heard it a split second before the rest of the Fellowship did.

From the deeps, drumming noises could be heard.

At first it was the quietest tap, but then it grew louder, and more frequent and louder still until the whole fellowship was listening, stranded on a knife-edge, listening to the ominous sounds of their own doom.

Buffy and Aragorn paled further as they heard the answering drumbeats, and two whispered voices announced the cause of their sudden fear, "Drums in the deep….." Buffy whispered the words to herself again as her senses were suddenly thrown into chaos, and she felt such unmitigated evil dwelling below them that she almost felt like her head was going to burst from the sheer force of it.

Then a great, rolling boom echoed throughout the chamber. It seemed to come from the unexplored depths below. "Do you hear all that noise?" Legolas asked Buffy, who had the second keenest hearing of the group, stealthily asking her could she hear the faint marching of feet, the scuttling of bodies.

"Just enough to make me feel crappy." Buffy replied, schooling her face to stoicism. It was enough that she was about to meet with the oh so welcoming hordes of Moria, she wasn't going to act like a wimp about it though.

And then Sam cried out in horror, seeing Frodo's sword, Sting, glow blue, meaning that there were orcs near, "Frodo!" he cried, alerting the dark-haired hobbit to the now blue glowing blade.

Another rolling boom sounded, that seemed to come from depths far below, and to tremble in the stone at their feet. They sprang towards the door in alarm, as if to run.

Buffy and Aragorn stood still, knowing it would be of no use.

And then there came an echoing blast; a great horn was blown in the hall, and answering horns and harsh cries were heard further off. There was a hurrying sound of many feet. The warriors knew at once what it meant, and swords were loosened in their scabbards, knives drawn, arrows nocked.

"They are coming!" cried Legolas, his fair face echoing his dismay. He knew better than most the numbers coming against them, able to make them out as they came closer.

"We cannot get out!" said Gimli, clutching his great battle-axe to him, perhaps going through the same motions his kin had before their slaughter.

"Trapped!" cried Gandalf in horror and dismay at their own foolishness as the trap closed about them, "Why did I delay?! Here we are, caught, just as they were before. But I was not here then…" he said at last, his voice growing firmer as his resolve hardened. The Fellowship _had_ to succeed.

Whatever the cost.

Doom, doom came the drumbeat and the walls shook with the sound of it, disorientating the fellowship and increasing the fear and apprehension that invaded them with all the force of an avalanche.

"Slam the doors and wedge them!" shouted Aragorn, trying to keep order as the hobbits panicked, and trying to buy them time, gesturing to the two sets of doors in the room; the set they had come in by, and the set in the corner of the room. "And keep your packs on as long as you can; we may get a chance to cut our way out!"

"No!" Gandalf exclaimed forcefully, shaking his head, "We must not get shut in! Keep the east door ajar! We will go that way, if we get a chance."

"Okay, I may not be an expert at this but, I think this is the time when somebody hides." Pippin said timidly, his normally cheerful face ghostly white with terror.

"Good idea under normal circumstances," Buffy said, drawing and nocking her bow, "But not lily to work. They will just come through the doors. Trust me, not pretty."

"How do you know that?" Pippin asked, looking at her expectantly.

"Well… It's a long story. I'll tell it to you if we don't end up dying." Buffy replied, keeping her eyes on the main doors.

Legolas grimaced in disgust as he heard the screeching outside, "Orcs." he almost spat.

Hefting his shield onto his back, Boromir ran to the door, sticking his head out to see what was coming for them. Almost immediately though he jerked back again as two orcish arrows narrowly missed skewering him through the head. "This just keeps getting better," he muttered wryly, leaning against the door.

As Boromir darted back into the room after slamming the door shut with a loud bang, Aragorn barked out orders to the inexperienced hobbits, "Get back!" he exclaimed, "Stay close to Gandalf!"

Boromir skidded to a stop beside the knot of warriors in front of the hobbits, "They have a cave-troll." he drawled with a type of gallows humour or sarcasm, urging Aragorn to come with him as he grabbed some of the Dwarves great battle-axes and as Legolas threw them more, they used them to bar the doors. And then Boromir, Aragorn and Legolas stood facing the doors, bows and swords out.

Gimli was perched on top of the tomb of his cousin and Buffy soon leaped up to join them, eager to get some height to use her arrows, without the taller Men and Elf blocking her view. For a moment she contemplated using Balin's tomb to bar the door but then dismissed it; stone would not stop them now.

"Let them come!" Gimli shouted in challenge, clutching his axe and slipping into battle stance, "There is one dwarf yet in Moria that still draws breath!"

Beside the tomb stood Gandalf, looking menacing, his staff and sword poised and ready; and behind it were the hobbits.

"What do we do if they get in?!" Pippin asked Merry, hanging onto his own little sword of Westernesse for dear life.

"I kind of think we die Pippin!" Merry hissed, just as scared as his younger friend.

They all tensed as the orcs outside started to beat against the barred doors; the old wood beginning to buckle under their efforts and they knew that it would not hold as the sharp scimitars and weapons of the orcs started to pierce through the aged door.

Behind the warriors, the hobbits grouped together in a huddle, Frodo's sword glowing a vibrant blue. All had their swords drawn, even as they shrank back in fear at what was coming.

Legolas being the keenest shot of them all, as one of the most celebrated archers in Elvendom, started loosing his arrows as soon as the orcs had made great enough holes in the doors for him to shoot out through; and Buffy and Aragorn, copying his novel approach to orc killing, followed suit immediately, trying to reduce the numbers by as much as possible before they had to resort to close quarters combat.

Not exactly a good thing when orcs and scurry along walls like overgrown spiders.

And then the orcs burst through, the doors came tumbling down and all hell broke loose…

A rain of arrows met the first lines of orcs as they came rushing through in their eagerness to get to their prey, skewering through heads and bodies and armours with practiced ease.

But it was not enough.

And soon the orcs were too many and the room too crowded.

Buffy slung her bow across her back, and drew her sword in one hand and her long knife in the other, somersaulting into the fray even as Gimli started hacking orcs from atop the tomb with his deadly axe.

She landed beside Boromir who was using his shield and sword to decimate groups of orcs, and flashing him a jaunty grin, started decapitating and dismembering all the orcs around her.

As Boromir accepted her subtle offer to watch his back, and he doing the same for her; Gandalf then decided to join in the melee.

Raising his Elven sword, Glamdring, the wizard gave a great roar and charged. Looking at him for a moment, the four hobbits then followed suit, diving into the uproar; ducking under orcs and goblins, and skewering them through the middle with all their summoned courage.

Legolas was the only one still using the bow by this point; using his arrows to skewer orcs if they came close enough for hand-to-hand work and then jerking them back out to nock and fire from his bow.

Having met unexpected opposition, the orcs screeched like mad and one darted back out the doors to summon the cave troll.

Which was of course very bad news.

Sam was the first to meet it. Skidding to an abrupt halt, the steadfast hobbit looked up and up, until he saw the extremely ugly face of the cave troll. As it roared and brought its great club down to squish him, Sam gave a great shout and dived through the legs of the troll, missing its deathblow. The fortunate hobbit scrambled to his feet as Buffy yanked him up before he could be killed by an orc.

Merry and Pippin backed up with Frodo into a corner, hiding behind a pillar in an effort to keep the ringbearer away from the cave troll.

For it seemed that nothing was having much effect on this creature. The troll moved further into the room, towards Gimli. The Dwarf threw a throwing axe at it, which struck it in the chest, but it did not even faze it.

From across the room, Legolas hit it with an arrow but again, it did no real damage.

The troll then charged Gimli, who looked like a mouse who had just met the cat for a moment before he jumped from his perch just in the nick of time to avoid being crushed, as the cave troll destroyed Balin's tomb with one terrible blow from its heavy club.

The Dwarf landed awkwardly on hard stone, but he staggered to his feet again and started madly hacking orcs with his great axe.

It soon became clear that the troll was totally out of control, as it cared not who it killed; whatever side. Its club was used to slam orcs and send them sailing nearly as much as it was used to try to kill the fellowship.

Unfortunately, Gimli, once more, was right in its away and as it started swinging its weapon, carrying away orcs every time, he managed to duck but then at last he got knocked down and as he lay dazed, in a vulnerable position, the troll came towards him.

Seeing the Dwarf's plight, Legolas leaped up onto a ledge and fired two arrows at once into the troll's back, distracting it and allowing time for Gimli to scramble to his feet once more, swaying for a moment before swinging his axe at the orc who was charging him, slicing it clean through the middle.

Buffy abandoned her corner where she had been dispatching orcs, and rolled under a blow from the, by now, livid troll. She quickly saw that her sword and knife were not going to be enough since they looked very puny compared with the creature's size.

However, she did not have time to ponder what she was going to use as a weapon as its club came crashing down, missing her head by about two inches. Having fallen down at the impact, she quickly scrambled up and tried to get away from it, as she did not think that any of her usual martial arts moves were going to do much against the huge troll.

But luck was not on her side, and as she leaped onto the remnants of Balin's tomb, intending to put it between her and the monster, its club slammed into her side and threw her into the wall.

She dazedly slid to the floor, waiting for the black spots in her vision to clear but was seized by the throat by an orc. Scrabbling for her knife, which lay just out of her reach, she tried to kick the orc off, but her whole hip was bruised and she was forced to jerk back from the pain.

Her salvation came in the form of Boromir, who decapitated the orc for her and helped her up, as she grabbed her sword and knife. He immediately noticed the way she was favouring her left leg, "Are you hurt, Buffy?" he asked, taking care of another orc that came their way as she regained her equilibrium.

She shrugged off his concern, "Just dazed from the hit and run with the wall. I'll be fine!" she said and then jumped back into the fight, leaving Boromir to do the same.

Quickly doing a head count, she spotted Gandalf slicing orcs with his sword and using his staff as a quarterstaff about ten feet away, and Legolas upon a ledge above her had been forced to abandon his bow in favour of his long knives and was currently dispatching three orcs at once. Sam was in one corner of the room, holding his own and at the opposite end, she could make out the other three hobbits hiding behind a carved pillar; Gimli was hacking away near to Aragorn, who was guarding the east-door with his sword.

As she watched though, Legolas had his turn with the troll.

It swung the heavy metal chain attached to its collar at Legolas, who managed to dodge it repeatedly so that it impacted on stone, raising small dust clouds wherever it hit. The chain then wrapped around a pillar, momentarily leashing the troll, and Legolas took his chance.

From below, Buffy shouted at him to remember his common sense, "Legolas!" she cried in dismay, "What in Arda are you doing, you big idiot?!"

Legolas did not reply or even look at her; instead, he placed a booted foot on the chain and with typical Elven agility, ran up it until he hopped onto the troll's back, ignoring Buffy's furious shouts. He tried to shoot it in the neck, but the troll tried to shake him off and he was forced to give up in favour of keeping his balance. Sensing that the chance was lost, he leaped down from its back to the ground, earning himself a whack across the head by Buffy for his recklessness before they both got back to the business of killing orcs.

Buffy had to smile at Sam's antics though; he was using his frying pan to whack orcs who came near him in the face, "I think I'm getting the hang of this!" he exclaimed as he continued to whack any nearby orcs.

But she did not notice that the troll had backed the trio of Merry, Pippin and Frodo into a corner until Aragorn shouted out.

"Frodo!" he cried as the troll started to play hide and seek with a terrified Frodo, and in desperation, he started to fight his way to Frodo. Alerted by his cry, Buffy did the same.

By the time Aragorn got near enough for a good look, Frodo was being dragged by the troll and he was screaming for help. "Aragorn! Aragorn!" he cried.

Aragorn was exhausted, forced to lean against a wall for a moment to keep himself upright but at Frodo's cry, he leapt into action once more. "Frodo!" he shouted, jumping down in front of the hobbit, placing himself between Frodo and the troll.

As Aragorn started to fight with the troll, Buffy desperately tried to get across to them; her heart was in her throat at the sight of Aragorn and the troll.

Aragorn thrust a spear into the troll's chest but like all their other efforts, it did not stop him. Merry and Pippin threw rocks at the troll from above and frantically gestured for Buffy to hurry up.

But she was too late.

The troll hit Aragorn, sending him flying just as it had done to her, except that Aragorn was not a slayer and he did not get up again.

"Aragorn!" she cried in horror, and redoubled her efforts, somersaulting over the heads of a pack of orcs, running as fast as she could to his side. Frodo had already done so but for his efforts, the troll had skewered him through his ribs with a spear after pinning him into the wall and so Frodo had sunk into a heap twenty feet away from the downed ranger.

But blind with worry and failure, and the knowledge that the Ring had struck, Buffy was oblivious to it.

Oblivious even to Sam's own pained cry, "Frodo! FRODO!!" he yelled as he too started to fight his way over to Frodo.

Merry and Pippin charged the troll, jumping onto its back, but were grabbed off and swung around in its hands, inducing them to scream madly and for Gimli and Gandalf to try to save them by gingerly attacking the troll.

It worked, partly, as Merry and Pippin were dropped from its hands and went splat onto the stone floor of the chamber, the breath momentarily knocked out of them.

Buffy felt for a pulse and when she found one, she nearly collapsed from relief. Without Aragorn, the kingdoms of Men would never survive this war. They were too divided, leaderless. Aragorn _had_ to survive. She could not bear it to be otherwise.

Ignoring the massive pain in her hip, she cradled his head in her lap and dared any orc to come near her, and indeed they did not; for fire and steel was in her glance, and her Elven blade gleamed an eerie blow, and even though her stature was small, they sensed a hidden power with her, similar to that felt in the wizard.

But as Legolas's arrows finally brought the troll down, collapsed in a dead heap on the floor of the chamber, Aragorn came round.

He started to sit up but she gently held him down for a moment, "Easy there," she said tremulously, "You don't want to faint on us again now, do you?"

He groaned as he opened his eyes and then, wincing, closed them again, and held a hand up to his throbbing head, "Meleth?" (Love), he whispered dazedly, and she felt her heart twist at the word. He thought she was Arwen. Even here, it seemed that the Elf Lady had complete control over Aragorn's heart and occupied his thoughts.

"No, Aragorn," she said, "It's me, Buffy. Come on now, get up. Take it easy though."

His eyes snapped open, "Frodo!" he exclaimed and bolted from her arms over to the downed hobbit. "Oh no…" he whispered softly as he turned him over and to his shock saw Frodo sucking in breaths.

Sam dropped down to his knees beside Frodo, "He's alive!" he exclaimed in relief.

Frodo sat up, and hurried to reassure the others that he was fine, "I'm all right. I'm not hurt." he said.

"You should be dead. That spear would have skewered a wild boar!" Aragorn said in wonder.

Gandalf though, knew better, "I think there is more to this Hobbit than meets the eye," he said sagely.

Frodo then unbuttoned his shirt to reveal a Mithril coat of mail, and Gimli's eyes widened at the very sight, "Mithril!" he exclaimed, "You are full of surprises, Master Baggins!"

He seemed about to say more but the sounds of more orcs coming sounded outside the chamber and Gandalf leaped to his feet, as the others did the same, "To the bridge of Khazad-dûm!" he shouted, leading the way through the east-door.

-------------

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Outside the east-door of the Chamber of Mazarbul, the mines of Moria, 3019 TA, January 15.

As they raced down the staircase, Gandalf stopped at the landing and Buffy stood beside him, ""Off you go, all of you, down the stairs!" Gandalf ordered, "Wait a few minutes for me at the bottom, but if I do not come soon, go on! Go quickly and choose paths leading right and downwards."

"We cannot leave you to hold the door alone!" Aragorn called.

"He will not be alone," Buffy stated, "The Slayer is with him."

If anything, Aragorn protested more at that, "You cannot Buffy! There are too many for both of you to handle!"

"Do as I say!" Gandalf said fiercely, giving Aragorn a slight push towards the stairs, "Swords are no more use here! Go!"

"Buffy, about before…" Aragorn began, unwilling to let this pass, referring to the cold shoulder she had been giving him after his liberties of the night before.

"We're good. Apologize later, if you're not dead." Buffy said, and then watched with Gandalf as the fellowship hurriedly descended the steep steps.

"Any idea what's in there?" she asked conversationally.

The wizard glared at her, "After what I entrusted to you, you should not be here."

"I'm the only one who can be here. I am the Slayer Gandalf. It's not a small thing to be able to kick baddies' butts. Now, let's go face the music shall we? What are you planning to do?"

"I must close the doors, and seal them," Gandalf said, "So that they cannot follow us down."

"Okay, then I'll guard your back while you're doing so." Buffy said agreeably.

Gandalf aimed his staff at the door and tried to put a shutting spell on the door. By now, both could hear the voices of many orcs on the other side, and Buffy silently urged the wizard to hurry up, afraid they would break it down before he was done.

"Oh, sh--" Buffy groaned as she went rigid and her eyes nearly rolled back in her head. She sank to her knees, head in her hands as something invaded her mind and senses with all the force of a landslide.

Gandalf could not aid her; he too felt when something came into the room, and he knew it to be terrible when the orcs fell silent from fear. As he struggled to finish his spell, he heard it grab the iron ring on the other side of the door, and as he finished his chant, it perceived him and his spell.

Even as Buffy hefted herself to her feet, her eyes wide with fear and dreadful knowledge of what lay behind the door, Gandalf was rocked back by a counter-spell so strong and terrible than it nearly knocked him off his feet.

Even as Buffy drew her sword, the door began to open, and Gandalf frantically shouted out a spell to close it again before whatever was on the other side could come through.

But it was too much and in a blast of white light, the door burst into pieces and shards of wood.

Buffy and Gandalf backed up at the implosion, and both strained their eyes to see what was beyond it but something dark as pitch was blocking all the light and as they started to back up, as the roof and walls started to shake, they were thrown down the stairs just as the roof collapsed from the strain.

------

Even as the fellowship waited at the bottom of the stairs long after Gandalf's 'few minutes' had passed, there was a stab of white light and a dull rumble followed by a heavy thud.

As they cried out in dismay, the drumbeats once more broke out wildly and then stopped just as suddenly.

Even as they watched the stairs, Gandalf and Buffy came tumbling head over heels down them; Gandalf landing on the ground but Aragorn managing to catch Buffy.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, "What happened?!"

"Not now. Everything's too horrible." Buffy croaked out, "And that's all I'm prepared to say at the moment."

"Well, well! That's over!" said the wizard struggling to his feet and ignoring their attempts to help him, "I have done all that I could. But I have met my match, and have nearly been destroyed. But don't stand there! Go on! You will have to do without light for a while; I am rather shaken. Go on! Go on! Where are you, Gimli?" he asked, searching for the Dwarf, "Come ahead with me! Keep close behind, all of you!" he said, not letting on about their narrow escape, as he led the Fellowship down the many flights of stairs.

When Aragorn pressed her for information on what had happened, Buffy only replied dully, "Hope and pray, Aragorn," she said, "Because right now that's all we got."

-------------------

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The Mines of Moria, 3019, TA. January 15, - Noontide.

At the end of an hour of mad flight, with terror and urgency giving them speed, they had gone a mile or maybe a little more and had descended seemingly endless flights of stairs. And every second, they were glad that they had yet to see any sign of pursuit by anyone, or indeed anything else resembling anything living and they almost began to hope that they would yet escape from this nightmare place.

With every flight of stairs they went down though; the air grew hotter and denser. At first the warmth was pleasant after the chill of the upper halls, but the further they went, the more oppressive did the heat get, until they were sweating profusely and gasping for breath.

Buffy kept up as best as she could, though each step jarred her bruised hip; which she was beginning to think may have been fractured a little in her collision with the wall, but she said nothing, and let on to no one of the pain she was in. She was the Slayer, she had coped with worse.

And she was lucky in a way; Aragorn and Legolas, who would have been the first to notice anything wrong were too preoccupied to pay her gait any attention and Legolas was at the front with Gandalf and Gimli, his keen sight needed to spot any unexpected drops, dead-ends or holes that may imperil the company.

But at the bottom of the seventh flight, Gandalf halted, and took off his pointed hat. "It is getting hot!" he gasped, beads of sweat trickling down his brow, and his entire body language bespoke his weariness, "We ought to be down at least to the level of the Gates now. Soon I think that we should look for a left-hand turn to take us east. I hope it is not far. I am very weary. I must rest here a moment, even if all the orcs ever spawned are after us."

Buffy did not protest and gratefully took the chance for rest, easing herself down onto the hard stone gently; mindful of the battering her body had received that day.

Gimli took Gandalf's arm, and helped him down to a seat on the step as Boromir and Aragorn helped the hobbits array themselves on the steps in the dark. "What happened away up there at the door?" he asked curiously, eyeing the wizard's uncharacteristically exhausted state, "Did you meet the beater of the drums?"

At his question, Buffy winced but everyone else's ears sharpened at the Dwarf's words. They too, wanted to know what had happened to send two such as Buffy and Gandalf head first down the staircase.

"I do not know," answered Gandalf, his expression grim and his eyes troubled, "But I found myself suddenly faced by something I have not met before. I could think of nothing to do but to try to put a shutting-spell on the door. I know many; but to do things of that kind rightly require time; and even then the door can be broken by strength."

"There were orcs behind the door as well," Buffy added, "It seems the whole place is on one giant hunt for us."

"Yes," Gandalf agreed, nodding at the slayer, "As I stood there I could hear orc-voices on the other side; at any moment I thought they would burst it open. I could not hear what was said, they seemed to be talking in their own hideous language. All I caught was _ghâsh_; that is 'fire'. Then something came into the chamber - I felt it through the door, and the orcs themselves were afraid and fell silent. It laid hold of the iron ring, and then it perceived me and my spell."

He paused here, and his expression grew more and more troubled and concerned as he pondered, "What it was I cannot guess, but I have never felt such a challenge. The counter-spell was terrible. It nearly broke me. For an instant, the door left my control and began to open! I had to speak a word of Command. That proved too great a strain. The door burst in pieces. Something dark as a cloud was blocking out all the light inside, and I was thrown backwards down the stairs. All the wall gave way, and the roof the chamber as well, I think." he sighed, "I am afraid Balin is buried deep, and maybe something else is buried there too. I cannot say. But at least the passage behind us was completely blocked. Ah! I have never felt so spent, but it is passing."

"Shadow and flame won't be blocked for long Gandalf," Buffy warned. Gandalf and Aragorn's eyes widened as they processed what Buffy had just stealthily imparted.

Durin's Bane was yet alive…

------------

As they rested, Aragorn sat himself beside Buffy, missing her slight hiss of pain as he jostled her, "How do you fare?" he asked her softly.

"I feel like I could sleep for a week," Buffy replied.

"I think everyone in the company could say that," Aragorn said wryly, "It has been a most trying day."

"It's Moria. Where everyday is a new way to be killed," Buffy answered drolly. "It wouldn't be the Great Black Pit if it didn't have some attractions for the tourists, like eating them…"

He looked at her, and knew that death stalked them now. His resolve strengthened, he would tell her now. He could not bear anything to happen without her knowing of his heart.

"Buffy….. I feel that there is something I have to tell you. About Arwen and I…" Aragorn said quietly, searching her hazel eyes intently.

Oh god, Buffy thought, he's going to tell me that he wants me to be in the wedding or something. She closed her eyes to hold back tears. This day had already been taxing; she could not deal with a lovesick Aragorn now.

"Leave it until we're out of here Aragorn," she said as firmly as she could, "Let's just concentrate on surviving, okay?"

As she got up to get some water from her pack, Aragorn could only stare after her and wonder why all his chances with her seemed to be cursed to failure.

---------------

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The lower levels, the mines of Moria, 3019 TA, January 15.

A couple of hours later, they at last reached the lower levels of the mines.

By now, the fellowship was an exhausted straggling group; even Legolas's Elven forbearance pushed to its limits by the darkness and its dangers.

But as they passed through the pitch darkness with only the narrow light of Gandalf's staff, and the faint shimmer of Legolas to cling to; most of the company thought that they were seeing things when a red tinge to the light started to become more and more clear.

Gimli, now walking beside Gandalf at the front, had the keen eyes of the Dwarves in the dark, and he was the first to remark upon it, "I think that there is a light ahead. But is not daylight. It is red. What can it be?" he said, the disquiet apparent in his tone.

__

"Ghâsh!" Gandalf muttered under his breath, though the words carried in the silence, his bushy eyebrows furrowing along with his brow as he deliberated over the matter, "I wonder if that is what the orcsmeant; that the lower levels are on fire? Still, we can only go on."

But they were forced to go on; they had to dare the East-gate or perish in the mines, lost forever and the One Ring in the hand of the dark things of the world.

But the further they went, the hotter the air grew, until the heat began to sap their energy, and their only consolation was that the fire lit their way now, and the lower levels were becoming easier and easier to see in the flickering light.

Buffy could not be grateful for the light; only wonder at its cause. And whether or not it had been there before they came or whether it had been lit to consume them. She would not be surprised if a wall of fire blocked their only way out. This trip had been nothing but bad luck, why should it change now?

When they came to an arch, Gandalf went through; signalling to them to wait while he checked it out. As he stood just beyond the opening, staring at something they could not see, they saw his face lit by a red glow. Quickly he stepped back, his expression grim and his staff clutched tightly in his gnarled hands.

"There is some new devilry here," he told him with no little concern, holding his hat in his hand, "Devised for our welcome, no doubt. But I know where we are; we have reached the First Deep, the level immediately below the gates. This is the Second Hall of Old Moria; and the Gates are near; away beyond the eastern end, not more than a quarter of a mile. Across the Bridge, up a broad stair, along a wide road, through the First Hall, and out! But come and look!"

At his words, the fellowship as one peered out. Buffy shuddered, didn't this look familiar? she thought sarcastically.

Before them was another cavernous hall. It was loftier and far longer than the one in which they had slept, Hall Twenty-One, absolutely immense in its own right. They were near its eastern end; westward it ran away into a yawning darkness. Down the centre stalked a double line of towering stone pillars. They were carved like boles of mighty trees whose boughs upheld the roof with a branching tracery of stone. Their stems were smooth and black, but a red glow was darkly mirrored in their sides.

Oh yes, Buffy knew this place well. She always remembered the places she never wanted to see again.

Right across the floor, close to the feet of two huge pillars, a great fissure had opened. Out of it, a fierce red light came, and now and again flames licked at the brink and curled about the bases of the columns. Wisps of dark smoke wavered in the hot air. This, then, was the source of the heat and red glow that had dogged their thoughts.

Buffy idly wondered if the Balrog had made that. It could not have been happy with her last visit, or the Dwarves.

"If we had come by the main road down from the upper halls, we should have been trapped here," Gandalf said, his relief at their luck obvious, "Let us hope that the fire now lies between us and pursuit. Come! There is no time to lose!" he said, gesturing them to follow as he led the way.

Even as he spoke, they head again the pursuing drumbeat. Away beyond the shadow of the western end of the hall, there came cries and horn-calls. Doom, doom; the pillars seemed to tremble and the flames to quiver with the sound of it.

They had been found. Their respite was over.

"Now for the last race!" said Gandalf, his urgency heeded by all, "If the sun is shining outside, we may still escape. After me!" he cried and they raced through the hall as the red glow started to creep towards them.

-----------------------

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The Bridge of Khazad-dûm, The Mines of Moria, 3019, TA. January 15, - Late Afternoon.

The wizard turned left and sped across the smooth floor of the hall., the fellowship following behind him as best they could; the faster members often slowing down to urge the hobbits and Gimli on.

As they ran, they heard the beat and echo of many hurrying feet behind them. A shrill yell went up; they had been seen.

Gandalf frantically urged them to pick up their pace and easily outpacing Merry, Buffy scooped him up, despite her own sort of limp, and bolted until she and Legolas were out in front, Merry and Pippin with them respectively.

An arrow whistled over Frodo's head and only Aragorn's quick reaction stopped the Ringbearer from being shot as he jerked Frodo out of its flight path.

But even as the hail of arrows started to fall amongst them, and even as Boromir's shield was placed over his head to protect him and Sam, the hobbit he was half-dragging to keep up, the more observant amongst them began to notice that they had had one stroke of luck at last.

The orcs were on the wrong side of the fire, and the flames were now protecting the fellowship from their onslaught.

Boromir laughed as he spotted the orcs' problem, "They did not expect this!" he cried, giving them a mocking wave, "The fire has cut them off! We are on the wrong side! And they cannot reach us across the flames!"

"Look ahead!" called Gandalf, redirecting their attention away from the fire, "The Bridge is near! But it is dangerous and narrow."

"What in this place isn't?!" Buffy said, "Just get us the hell out of here, Gandalf!"

The wizard nodded at her and led them down a passageway, "Lead the way Gimli!" he cried, gesturing the Dwarf to go forward, "Pippin and Merry next! Straight on, and up the stair beyond the door!"

Even as the first three gained the safety of the stairs, with the walls of stone effectively stopping the orcish arrows to shoot at them; another rain of arrows descended on the other seven.

They fell amongst them like rain, and Buffy was never more thankful for Galadriel's gift of the mail shirt as she was when one arrow bounced back; and she felt Frodo felt likewise towards Bilbo, as it had had a lot to do with keeping the hobbit alive.

Another arrow pierced Gandalf's hat and stuck there like a black feather, making even Buffy eye him funny but the wizard never slowed down as they gained the hall above the staircase.

And as Buffy's flesh crawled, she looked behind her and rapidly saw the need for Gandalf's haste. It looked like the bowels of Moria had disgorged all the orcs and goblins that crawled within, and that they were all chasing them.

They scuttled down the pillars from the roof, they crawled up through holes and chasms in the floor; they were everywhere.

And the company were hopelessly outnumbered a thousand to one.

None noticed the red glow appearing on the walls once more.

Eventually they were cornered in the middle of the hall, forced to halt and draw weapons and face the hordes that were coming for them. Buffy and Legolas being the only ones with any arrows left drew their bows, and the rest were forced to raise their blades.

"We are so screwed," Buffy said as the orcs closed in around them. Her instincts were telling her to get the hell out of dodge but there was nowhere to go, the orcs were even coming down from the ceiling by way of the great stone pillars.

But even as the orcs scuttled closer and the warriors shifted into a tighter protective circle, they spotted the red glow approaching and to their astonishment, the orcs disappeared as rapidly as they had come, crawling back into their pits and ceilings.

"Generally speaking, when the scary things get scared – not a good sign." Buffy said with remarkable composure.

Boromir looked at the retreating orcs with amazement and no little wariness, "What is this new devilry?" he said, looking around suspiciously, as if Sauron himself was going to come out of the shadows.

But then from the shadows of the great doors of the hall, came a… thing.

It was a great creature of shadow and flame; that drew darkness to it like light does to moths. Its great horned face topped a body at least twenty feet tall and in its hands were a sword and whip of fire; it had great wings of shadow stretching out on either side of its body, at least fifty feet across and a great tail of fire three or four times the height of the tallest man. With every step, the floor shook underneath it and it carried with it a shadow of fear for all who beheld it.

It was a demon from the first age, the very one that had destroyed the Dwarves of Moria in the year 1980 of the Third Age when it killed King Durin VI and most of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was a Balrog of Morgoth and no foe so fierce save for Sauron had been seen in this age.

"Ai! Ai! A Balrog! A Balrog is come!" cried Legolas, remembering the tales of his youth and the dreadful knowledge that very few even amongst the most powerful of the Eldar had any chance of killing a Balrog, let alone any of the company.

Gimli stared with wide eyes at the agent of his kin's fall and destruction, "Durin's Bane!" he cried out in horror.

"A Balrog," muttered Gandalf, his eyes downcast and his shoulders stopped like the old man he pretended to be; "Now I understand…" He faltered and leaned heavily on his staff, "What an evil fortune! And I am already weary!"

He did not speak that he felt that Aragorn's prophesied doom had come to him now, in this darkest hour, just as his friend had warned him. Now, more than ever, was he glad that Narya had a new bearer for he knew that he was not strong enough to survive a Balrog. To kill it, he may have a slim chance, but to survive it he had none.

"What is it?!" Boromir demanded, "What sorcery is this?!"

Gandalf looked up wearily, "A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world. This foe is beyond any of you. Run!" he cried and bolted for the stairs to the bridge.

Aragorn raced across the hall, "Quickly!" he shouted, "Move faster!" Then the ranger noticed that Gandalf was lingering, "Gandalf!" he shouted, "Come on!"

Gandalf looked at the ranger, seeing the pity and understanding in Buffy's eyes that the ranger had not yet contemplated Gandalf's probable fate, "Lead them on, Aragorn. The bridge is near." The ranger made to protest but the wizard shoved Aragorn away from him, "Do as I say!! Swords are no more use here!" he snapped.

They raced down the crumbling staircases, feeling steps give way underneath their feet and knowing that their predicament was perilous at best. But they pushed on, until at last they came to a break in the rock.

Legolas leaped across it with ease, and stood ready to brace the others as they jumped, "Gandalf!" he shouted, signalling for the wizard to jump the gap. The wizard promptly did so and was followed by Buffy who took a running leap.

Then Boromir grabbed a hobbit with each hand, "Merry! Pippin!" and jumped over with them, precariously wavering on the edge for a moment as the weight had nearly been too much, the risk too great.

Even as Boromir landed, the rock on the other side started to give way and they knew that their time was running out, but Buffy could do nothing but watch and wait as the remaining four on the other side tried to jump. Aragorn easily tossed Sam across into Boromir's arms, and looked expectantly at Gimli, whose chest puffed up with indignation at the very thought.

"_Nobody _tosses a dwarf!" he said and jumped the gap, barely making the ledge and was only stopped from falling by Legolas grabbing him by his thick beard. The Dwarf's eyes goggled in outrage, "Not the beard!!!" he cried.

Buffy just had to admire his sense of the ridiculous.

But then the rock gave way and Aragorn and Frodo were left stranded, clinging to a piece of rock that was swaying dangerously. The ranger grabbed the back of the hobbit's shirt and held on tightly. "Steady. Hold on!" he shouted as the rock began to sway more forcefully. "Hang on!" he cried as the top of the stone broke away from the bottom and fell at an angle, towards the bit of stone that the rest of the Fellowship was standing on, on a knife edge with anticipation.

"Lean forward." Aragorn said calmly, bracing their weight, "Steady now."

Legolas did not wait for pleasantries, "Come on! Now!" he cried and Frodo and Aragorn jumped. Gandalf barely allowed them enough time to stand before he was in motion once more, "Over the bridge! Fly!" he shouted, pointing at the Bridge of Khazad-dûm in the distance.

But even as the others ran for it, Buffy lingered behind, "You need someone to watch your back, even if you don't think so," she said. "I'm the slayer. This is my fight too."

"The Balrog will destroy you, Buffy!" Gandalf exclaimed, "Even I cannot win."

"This isn't about winning," Buffy said with ice cold deliberation, "This is about buying time. Think I don't know that? They need time, so we've got to give it to them."

"You have your own problems to protect, Dagnir," Gandalf said sternly.

"And we both know that out of all present, I've got the most experience with demons," Buffy shot right back, "Now can we try to come up with some kind of plan before Mr Balrog comes for his barbecue?"

"This could kill you, Dagnir." Gandalf said softly.

Unflinching hazel eyes met his own, "I've known that since I was fifteen." Buffy said, equally softly but with a steely determination, "I'm not afraid of it. Not anymore. And some things are worth more than my life." she said, thinking of her friends.

Gandalf could not condone her actions, but he knew he could not gainsay her so he let her be. By now, Boromir and Aragorn had realised that Buffy and Gandalf had not followed them across the bridge, and tried to turn back to get them. Gandalf did not let them get far. "Over the bridge! Fly! This is a foe beyond any of you! I must hold the narrow way! Fly!" he shouted.

Aragorn and Boromir did not heed the command, but still held their ground, side by side, behind Gandalf at the far end of the bridge.

"You cannot stand alone!" Aragorn said, wishing desperately for Buffy to cross the bridge, "Have some sense! Run!"

Buffy called out to Aragorn, "Protect your own charges, ranger boy, and don't worry about us!" Buffy said, going to him and placing a soothing hand on his arm, shocked when he crushed her to him.

"Buffy! No! It is a Balrog! Even you cannot kill it!" Aragorn said in dismay and fear, trying to prevent her going.

Buffy wrenched herself out of his grip, "It's a demon. I'm a Slayer. I have to do my duty Aragorn. I've dealt with worse and survived. Trust me." she said, and then ran back to Gandalf.

Knowing when he was defeated, and praying that Buffy's skills would be enough, he waited. And watched.

By now, the Balrog was upon them and it opened its mouth and let out a roar of flame that nearly knocked the slayer and wizard of their feet.

"Hey, oh Mr Balrog!" Buffy shouted, stepping forward with the light of the slayer in her eyes; and the lethal and brutality of her calling welled up inside her, "Remember me?" she said mockingly.

The Balrog turned to look at her, and to her eyes, it looked disturbingly calculating. "Yeah, you. You think I'm afraid of you?" she taunted, waving her sword, totally focused on her task. - Kill and Destroy.

And then the deadly dance began.

While the Balrog had sheer strength and firepower, Buffy's main resource was agility but she soon realised that her sword would not do much good when she could only prick him in the legs, and so in a reluctant but desperate move, she grabbed onto its tail and started to climb.

The fire seared her, but not half as much as she had expected, and shutting out all the cries and shouts she could hear, she landed on the Balrog's back and with one sharp slice of her sword, hacked at a tendon on one of its wings.

It let out a roar of rage and started to try to shake her off. With a startled shout, she fell. But before she could hit the ground, the Balrog's arm hit her and slammed her into a wall.

Staggering to her feet once more; and developing a growing respect for Glorfindel by the minute, she was about to start round two when she noticed a rapid movement in the shadows.

She barely got time to get her equilibrium back before it struck.

It was hard to see, fast and lethal.

And when Buffy looked into its coal black eyes of death, she remembered Spike's warnings about how slayers died, and she knew that she looked into her own death this eve.

Tears prickled her eyes at the thought, but she furiously shoved them down; if she had to go down, she was going to take as many bad guys with her as she could.

Perhaps this new creature sensed the change in her from caution to calculated abandon but whatever the reason, it slowed long enough for her to have a look at it.

It had a faintly human appearance; if a human could be crossbred with an orc that was. Sharp talons covered each appendage and it had a sharp, pointed face coupled with black eyes and scraggly grey-ish hair. A weapons pack of a sort lay across its back. Its body seemed thin, almost frail but even from watching it, Buffy was not fooled.

The speed and strength with which it moved already assured her that she was outmatched, and with a Balrog at her rear, hopelessly outgunned.

There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. The only thing left her was to choose the manner of her own final defeat.

Spinning into a harsh roundhouse kick, she slammed into the new Moria monster and then before it had any chance to recover, came at it with a series of whirling sword movements, made fast and deadly due to slayer speed and agility.

As she half expected it would, it evaded her charge, instead trying to trip her up. She somersaulted up and over the blow, cartwheeling out of its immediate range before flipping back to her feet.

They met again in a clash of wills and steel; the monster drawing a wicked looking scimitar from its pack and coming at her with single-minded determination to end her life.

They kept this up for several minutes, a never-ending dance of meeting and retreating, as the slayer fought for what time she had left to her. She vaguely knew that Gandalf had taken over harassing the Balrog, but her attention was too focused on the fight to think much on it.

However, when she felt that familiar shock in her heart that signalled danger for Aragorn, her concentration snapped. Whirling around, she saw the rest of the fellowship trying to come to her aid, and the ranger she loved making her way towards her. Towards his death.

She knew she could not kill it; it was too strong and too fast - her blows glanced off it like water, and she could not let it claim any more lives. Making her decision, she glanced at the fellowship one final time, and lovingly mesmerised Aragorn's face for the final time, wishing that their future had been different.

Her mind flashed back on the good times that she had had since coming to Middle Earth, and the good times from her old world, and inwardly, she made peace with her decision, with one final look at Aragorn's face, where dawning horrified comprehension was beginning to show, she leaped, and in a surprise movement, tackled the creature.

It had not expected such a suicidal move, and her sword sank deep into its belly, but even as she gained victory, the price was paid.

The creature had been standing on the edge of the abyss, and as her weight toppled them over, the last sound she heard was the agonised scream of "BUFFY!!!" before she fell into the abyss, and thence to nothingness.

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Gandalf had seen her sacrifice with pitying and understanding eyes; she had done the only thing she could to annihilate the threat; he would have to do the same; - he only wished that Narya would not have fell with her.

Buffy Dagnir had been one of the bravest souls he knew, and a true friend, but he did not have time to mourn; - it was time to face his own demons now.

The Balrog reached the bridge. Gandalf stood in the middle of the span, leaning on the staff in his left hand, while his opponent, a fellow Maia came towards him. His enemy halted again, turning to face him, and the shadow about it reached out like two vast wings. It raised the whip, and the tongs whined and crackled as they flew through the air. Fire came from its nostrils as it roared at him. But Gandalf stood firm. "You cannot pass!" he said firmly, staring the Balrog down.

"Gandalf!" Frodo cried helplessly towards his friend.

The orcs stood still and a dead silence fell at the wizard's words, and a great brightly glowing shield started to encase him as he spoke, "I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor! The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udûn!"

The mighty whip of the Balrog crashed down and shattered Gandalf's bubble, sending a shockwave through them both. "Arrghh!" Gandalf yelled, "Go back to the Shadow!! YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!" he roared, bringing his staff crashing down onto the narrow bridge and the stone cracked beneath his feet, causing the Balrog's half of the bridge to crumble and the Balrog to fall.

Sighing, bone weary beyond comprehension, he turned around to go back to the distraught fellowship but even as he turned, a fiery whip of the Balrog wrapped around his ankle, and yanked him down.

He tried to grab onto the edge of the bridge, but could not keep his grip, the force of the Balrog was too strong. Even as he scrabbled for a hold, Frodo tried to run to him. Boromir grabbed the hobbit around the middle, to stop him running back to Gandalf, "No! No!" Frodo cried desperately, "GANDALF!!!"

The wizard looked at them for the final time, "Fly, you fools!" he said, and then let go.

The fires went out, and blank darkness fell as the orcs' Balrog master was sent to its own doom. The company stood rooted with horror staring into the pit where two dear friends had fallen so valiantly. Even as Aragorn and Boromir retreated from the edge of the bridge under a hail of arrows, the rest of the bridge cracked and fell. With a cry, Boromir roused them, seeing that Aragorn could not. "Come! We must go now!" he shouted, rousing the fellowship from their shocked stupors, "We must obey his last command. Follow me!" he said, heading for the passageway to the East-gate.

Frodo screamed even as Boromir carried him away, "NO!! NO!!!!"

"We must go!" Boromir shouted from a distance at a stunned Aragorn, "Do not let their sacrifices be in vain!"

With the single minded determination to survive and not to let Buffy and Gandalf's great sacrifices to go to waste, Boromir directed the fellowship up the stairs that led to the East-gate and the way out.

Aragorn stood, frozen, staring at the abyss, which has taken his heart, lost to all common sense.

From behind him, still holding a weeping Frodo, the man of Gondor cried out to him again, "Aragorn! Come! We must go!"

At last, the ranger staggered forward to join the company; grief and shock blinding him and choking him but they ran on.

At last, the light grew before them; great shafts pierced the roof. They ran swifter at the sight of this hard won freedom. They passed into a hall, bright with daylight from its high windows in the east. They fled across it at full speed, Boromir leading the way. Through its huge broken doors, they passed, and suddenly before them the Great Gates opened, an arch of blazing light.

There was a guard of orcs crouching in the shadows behind the great doorposts towering on either side, but the gates wee shattered and cast down. Aragorn found himself filled with a rage so terrible that it scared him as he saw the orcs; some of the vile creatures that had been responsible for the deaths of Gandalf, his friend and his meleth, Buffy. With terrible fury and power, Aragorn smote to the ground the captain that stood in his path, and the rest fled in terror of his wrath, not giving him the chance to decimate them too.

At last, they passed into the Dimrill Dale and the harsh glare of the waning sunlight stung their eyes.

At length they paused, and looked back.

Dark yawned the archway of the Gates under the mountain-shadow. Faint and far beneath the earth rolled the slow drumbeats. A thin black smoke trailed out of the open gate. Nothing else was to be seen, the dale all around them was empty.

Grief at last overcame them, and they wept long where they sat.

The drumbeats faded.

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"The only cure for grief is action."

-- George Henry Lewes

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Outside the East-gate, the vale of Nanduhirion, called by the Dwarves the valley of Azanulibizar or the Dimrill Dale, 3019 TA, January 15.

Aragorn was dying.

Sinking to the ground, the clear sky above him almost seemed to be mocking him as his heart shattered.

Buffy was dead; Gandalf was dead; and he had done nothing.

He would never see them again, never have their sage counsel, never again see Buffy smile at him in that teasing way, never.

Lost to the pain in his body and soul, he did not notice the strange duo of Boromir and Legolas assuming the burden of the grieving, shattered fellowship. A burden that Gandalf had passed to Aragorn ere his death.

Legolas was in his own state of disbelief; whilst Boromir comforted a shouting Gimli, who struggled against him, seeking to re-enter the mines to fetch their lost friends, or to avenge them.

Sam had cast himself onto a rock, his head in his hand, while Frodo stood alone, tears streaking down his cheeks; Merry and Pippin consoled each other like brothers, but Aragorn seemed to have shut down completely, so blank and still was he.

Boromir and Legolas could not leave him be. They could not afford to, however their hearts felt.

They approached him quietly, imploring him to rise up; to lead them; to do anything but sit there with that dreadful blank stare.

He did not respond. Could not respond.

Legolas and Boromir's eyes met above the head of the grieving Dúnadan, and for once, they were united in understanding, an alliance made, a cause pledged.

"Aragorn," Legolas said gently, "We grieve too. But we do them no justice by waiting here until it is dark, and the orcs leave Moria to hunt us once more. Gandalf entrusted the leadership of the Fellowship to _you_, you have to do it. Do you think that Buffy would want to see you like this?"

Aragorn heard the words, and though his soul felt empty, devoid of emotion as blessed numbness started to sink in; he knew his duty. He could and would mourn Buffy's loss in the Golden Wood but until then, he had to push past the pain long enough to lead the company as Gandalf would have wished him to.

And even as he rose to his feet, he felt the first tendrils of blistering anger rise up within him. Sauron would pay for this, he swore, but first, his duties must come first. Wiping his sword clean in a single stroke, he resheathed Andúril, and spoke to his best friend yet present, "Legolas, get them up."

Boromir bristled at his callous tone, seeing that it upset the hobbits further, "Give them a moment for pity's sake!" Giving his long time friend a look, Legolas wordlessly did as he was bid.

Aragorn did not bother to look at the man of Gondor, "By nightfall these hills will be swarming with Orcs. We must reach the woods of Lothlórien. Come Boromir. Legolas, Gimli, get them up."

He walked over to Sam and hauled him up, "On your feet, Sam." he said and then looking around for the Ringbearer, he saw that Frodo had wandered away some distance, "Frodo! Frodo!!" he called, and the tear-stained hobbit reluctantly joined the gathering group.

And so the much depleted fellowship left for the safety of Lothlórien, carrying with them the shadow that was all that remained of their lost comrades.

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The deeps, the mines of Moria, 3019 TA, January 15.

And in freefall in one of the greatest bottomless chasms that Khazad-dûm harboured, the only Vampire Slayer in Middle Earth met her end….

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A/N: (cackles madly as Buffy falls to her death…) Well? What do you think? Surprised? Shocked? Ready to kill me yet? All feedback appreciated! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!!!

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Next chapter: Shock runs rampant… Gandalf gets into a little fight… and we find out Buffy's doom…

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Elvish:

Mellon nín - my friend

Dagnir - Slayer

Meleth - love

Dúnadan - Man of the West

Andúril - flame of the West

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Dwarvish:

Mazarbul - records

Khazad-dûm - Moria

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Azanulibizar - the valley below the East-Gate of Moria.

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Durin's Bane - the Balrog of Moria. Killed Durin VI in 1980.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Nanduhirion - the glen about Mirrormere between the arms of the Misty Mountains into which the Great Gates of Moria opened. Translation: Dimrill Dale.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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	33. From Beneath You It Devours

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: (bows dramatically) thank you! Thank you! I am delighted with the response for the previous chapter and I freely admit that I am totally evil. So to everyone who wishes to kill me, I would like to point out that you don't know where I live so you can't get me! (sing-song voice there, if you didn't get it.)

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P.S - I am VERY sorry about the delay, and especially after the cliffhanger of the last chapter but not only did I have a full week and a half of Christmas exams and a bout of flu, not to mention all the usual Christmas preparations. Suffice it to say that I was very, very busy.

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Review responses:

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Agarwaen - I know what you mean. I like to change things to the story or else where's the fun? Or the point?

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Aleviel - why, thank you! And actually, technically, Buffy's memory would be enough to sustain a crossover in which she has already done so much. But no, Aragorn is not going to kill himself. He does have a destiny. And yes, I've got plenty cooked up.

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Alexceasar - a lot of people seem to hate me of late.

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Allen Pitt - never say never. Okay, I admit that Éowyn would be a good candidate as a slayer but that's not the way this fic is going. No Conner. Ever. But there may be another crossover character for the sequel….

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Athene Saile - Buffy will not be joining Gandalf.

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AznMi - why thank you. But your logic needs a little work. Buffy can die. She has before. And come back. And die again.

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ChibiChibi - thanks! I guess you must be psychic. The monster Buffy fought is a slayer killer dreamed up by Sauron.

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Claddagh - sadly, no it won't.

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Donna8 - I always have a trick up my sleeve.

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Dreamer Child - interesting idea. And one I've already considered for another fic. Thank you for all your lovely comments! They were so encouraging! And if I made the hints obvious, what would be the point? It's fun leading readers on! And there were not two Balrogs. There was one unnamed monster and one Balrog. When unnamed monster attacked Buffy, Gandalf took over with the Balrog.

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Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell - did I ever mention that your reviews always send me into fits of glee? And fate, when it's bad, always comes early when Buffy is concerned. I made you cry? Awww. I always thought that Gandalf did sacrifice himself for the Fellowship, ever since I first saw the film. And I never said she was dead. Yet. And hell… well, that's not really something you can avoid. And no, Buffy's task is not complete. Just like Gandalf. But sorry, she really doesn't know about Aragorn. Buffy's self-esteem - not good when it comes to men. And the creature is a slayer-killer. More to be explained in this chapter so I'll lay off the details. And it was there waiting just for her. Wasn't she lucky? Of Narya… well, that's to be cleared up later. Can't just give that away, you know. Thank you for your fabulous review, they always make my day. And what ideas to send my muse spinning? I LIKE when it does that! Tell me! Tell me! Námarië!

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Estrecca - hi! Thanks for reviewing! Okay, on to answering your questions. 1- the monster was my own invention. A slayer killer. More detail is in this chapter. 2 - no one gets the slayerness. 3 - no, Gandalf dies. 4 - not understanding the reference. 5 - the monster was one, and there's more to come. 6 - it would, wouldn't it?

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FallenAdieu - another lurker coming out of the woodwork! Yay! Welcome back! And yes, the chapters seem to be getting longer. The more story that I have to pack in, the longer they get. And I always have something else planned for the poor girl. Whenever has she gotten a break on my watch? And yes, the Aragorn and Buffy scene with the betrothal out in the open should definitely be interesting!

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FallenStar2 - wow. Thanks. I'm glad that you didn't drop the hot cocoa onto your laptop. Major ouch there. And Buffy's fate is always painful. And why stop the 'Let's kill Buffy in the most insane, inhumane and painful way possible!' moments. They're fun! Uh, this, a nicer chapter? … read on and see…

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gatemaster - cliffhangers are only annoying to the one reading them.

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Haley - thanks! And of course I know. Have I gotten death threats? At last count, I have about sixty people wanting to kill me. And no, they will not both come back at Fangorn. Sorry, but I've got other plans….

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Idrisien - okay, thanks for all the nice things you said, and I take no offence, nor mean to give you any, but I do feel that I have to address your, in my opinion, somewhat unfounded criticisms. I screwed up continuity? No offence, but the Nazgûl were in Dol Guldur in the early 2000's of the Third Age. And Sauron was hanging around before then as well. Also, I think it is slightly rich that you're ragging on me for spoiling continuity and then slagging me off for sticking to canon for the first part of the Fellowship's journey. Please make up your mind. Okay, Buffy is there but everything _hasn't_ turned out the same. She's there to alter things somewhat not change the entire proceedings! That would be wrecking Tolkien's story. Also, Narya has a new bearer, Aragorn and Arwen are no longer together, Boromir is on track not to be such a prat and the seeds are being sown for numerous plot and canon deviations. Also the 'fool of a Took' line is Gandalf's favourite saying with regards to Pippin so I think that gives me license to use it.

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Imp17 - you're right. Death has never stopped her. Haunting Aragorn is a new idea though.

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Irina - what do you mean by 'quite a different animal'. I'm curious. Please explain..

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Jenn - I do try to keep it unpredictable. (blushes) thanks for all the comments! They are so great! And I like throwing my readers into uproar. It's how I get my sadistic fun. Thanks for the brilliant review!

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Kit-Kat - true… and however did you guess about the hell bit? And the question of when and where… do you really think I'm going to answer that?

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Lady Alathon - should I be looking into bodyguards?

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Lady of the Wood - you'll find out Buffy's fate in this chapter. Some of it anyway.

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Lali-chan - thanks! 'my precious' hmmm, just don't start to dress like Gollum and you should be okay.

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Lariren - very good! You are the only one to catch that! Yes, the monster was made by Sauron from Buffy's blood with the purpose of killing her.

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Light Spinner - I know what you mean. There is no way that Buffy would just hang back when there is a Balrog to kill.

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Lisette - yes, the Ring of Fire has a big part to play. And I'm trying to make her non-creepy. Buffy the White Slayer? I don't think so. And I get what you mean about the soap operas. Definitely starting to feel like that, albeit better written I hope. And if the guy got the girl too soon, it would eliminate some major plot twists in this story, which are as of yet undisclosed. And who said that I wouldn't give them relationship crises and all that? There is to be a sequel after all! And the X-Files quote, I have a friend who is into all that stuff and they passed on the quote to me when I bounced by ideas for Buffy's death off them.

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Liit06 - thanks! Buffy is going to have an interesting experience that's for sure! And Aragorn couldn't afford to go into a longer trance, I'm afraid. Okay, about the sequel. I'm not going to take too long a break from writing and my finals should be finished by then, so I'd estimate between 1-3 weeks. But ask me again closer to the finish of this story and then I'll know better.

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Loki2525 - you hit on a good future bone of contention! Well done! However, you will just have to wait and see like everyone else! And the Lady of the Wood is going to be one busy lady.

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Lunawolf - do a glorfy? Whatever do you mean?

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Malfeus - so far, you're the only one besides me cackling! Well done!

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Mari - welcome back! And Murphy's Law has hit me a lot too so I sympathise. And how did you know about the dissenters? No, Arwen will not be in Lórien when the fellowship are but don't rule it out for later.

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MiShA - thanks! And I never said she was actually dead yet…

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N/A - I never said they get together at Helms Deep, did I? I don't remember that.

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Night-Owl123 - read on and see…

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Pamie884 - (listens to the cursing) thanks! I was aiming for 'heart-stopper'. And why wouldn't I be cruel?

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Procrastinating - read more carefully. Buffy was fighting the unknown monster while Gandalf took over the Balrog.

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Sapph89 - don't worry, the great revelation isn't too far away now!

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Shadow Master - thanks! Buffy's tumble off the bridge has been planned since the summer. The sword into the wall idea is an interesting one but sadly not the one that I used. Buffy? Platinum blonde like Spike? No, there will be no 'Buffy the White'. One Gandalf is more than enough!

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Shabopo - not yet…

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ShawThang - hi! And okay, the ending was horrible and ominous but we're getting into war territory here!

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Shimmyontherooftops - welcome back! And thanks for all the virtual sweets! And yes, I did get sick.

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silverrowan - such a romantic view! Awww. But you'll be waiting…

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Sol - Buffy didn't fall with the Balrog. She fell with the other monster.

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Sparky24 - irony is a good word for it, isn't it?

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Star - Thanks! expect the unexpected? Probably a good analogy for this fic!

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Tara6 - read a tad more carefully. Buffy fought the unnamed monster; Gandalf had the Balrog after that came into play.

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Tiamante Salazar Tameran - I try to be original.

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Trickster-jz - All questions answered in the next chapter.

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Tsuki No Yasha - thanks! I made you cry? Don't take this the wrong way but yay! Glad to know that the chapter had impact. And Aragorn will explain himself soon.

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Vik - yes, there is a reason for the death. More than one actually.

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And major thanks and a round of applause to:

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Agent-G, Ally, anonymous, Becky, Boo, BuffyandDracoLover, Draco's Slytherin Vampiress, Dream-Dancer-Salem, eliska-grainne, ellie, emerald sorceress, fairieangel, Forevermore-fated-feared, General Mac, goldenshadows, Greenleaf, Kalika55, Kat, Little Red Rabbit, rosie, Sabia, Saint Maverick, Sarah e, scruffybunny, Selene, shari, slayergirl, Stix, Stix89, The Witch From Next Door, viggo lover, Vixen519, zayra,

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CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: FROM BENEATH YOU IT DEVOURS

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The Last Homely House, Rivendell, 3019, TA. January 15, - Late afternoon.

Walking in the lush gardens of the valley, Elrond Peredhel was enjoying the rare chance of a peaceful afternoon.

Heavy had been his heart since the Fellowship departed, and Arwen's own worry over her loved ones in the company was a palpable force in the valley. And he could not discount her fears; not when she voiced only what he was thinking.

That they had only a fool's hope.

It was the general opinion in the valley that the Fellowship would fail, and the Ring would be restored to its master, and it greatly distressed Arwen, and to a lesser extent Elladan and Elrohir, who itched to ride to war instead of staying in the still peaceful valley.

He could only hope and pray that against all odds, the fellowship would succeed where the Last Alliance had not and destroy the One Ring.

He could come under heavy fire from some of the more conservative of his advisors, who had little fate in the Fellowship of the Ring, and thought him mad to have thrown away the weapon of the enemy so lightly.

For the most part he ignored them, but after weeks of listening to the same useless drivel and criticism, he often had had enough and escaped the confinement of his study, where they could easily find him, and slipped out into the grounds, Celebrían's own corner of them especially, seeking to refresh his spirit and mind and soothe his restless soul.

But as he meandered through the greenery this eve; peace was not something that the fates had planned for him.

As suddenly as lightning, Elrond felt Vilya flare to life on his finger even as his mind was seized with some vision of foresight.

_Shadow and flame…. A lone blonde figure, small in stature but great in courage; a familiar red and golden ring upon her finger… A thing coming from the darkness, and hitting into her… a fight…. A fellowship's screams… and the blonde figure tumbled into the great abyss, the darkness closing in about her….. _

With a startled, horrified gasp, he jerked back as the images fled his mind and Vilya's warmth cooled upon his finger. And then he tried to process what his horrified mind had witnessed.

Somehow or another, Buffy had become the bearer of Narya; he could not help but recognise that ring, seen so often by him gracing Mithrandir's hand.

And through some twist of fate, something had claimed Buffy's life at last…

Staggering as he registered the significance of the vision, and of Buffy's long held back doom, he wondered how on earth one such as she had fallen, and if she had, after so many years, fallen; what did that mean for the rest of the Fellowship?

Galadriel had long maintained that Buffy had a part to play in the battle for Middle Earth, and he himself had just cherished victory by Aragorn being made aware of his feelings for the fiery slayer.

With one so strong gone, what doom did this spell for the company?

And what of Narya, now lost, Elrond also thought with no little horror. To lose Buffy, one he held dear, was a dreadful blow in itself, but to allow one of the Three to fall into darkness…

With her defences compromised, how could Rivendell stand against the shadow now?

And how, he wondered, closing his eyes in despair, was he ever going to inform his children of the terrible tragedy that had dashed his slim hopes for the success of a mission where failure was not an option and cost them a treasured friend?

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019, TA. January 15, - Late afternoon.

At the same time that Elrond was being assailed by visions in Rivendell, Galadriel, wandering restlessly around her city, felt a strange compulsion to go to her mirror.

She never ignored the call, knowing as she did that Nenya to whom the mirror was bound, would only compel her so when the message was dire or of great import.

Most often these past few weeks, her mirror had been showing her the various ways that this war for Middle Earth could be lost or won. She saw little that could help any plans, and much that was confusing but the small glimpses that she saw of the fellowship or of those dear to her, ensured that she did not give up looking every day.

Not when any scrap of information could be used to some advantage to bring about the fall of Sauron.

Gliding over to the mirror, she filled the ewer and poured it into the shallow basin, and waited for the images to come.

As fire and shadow covered the surface of the mirror, she gasped in shock and involuntarily took a step back.

She knew that there was but one known Balrog in the west of Middle Earth, and if the fellowship had dared tread the treacherous paths of Moria….

A survivor of the First Age, of Morgoth's reign, she knew all too well that for most, an encounter with a Balrog meant an ugly death.

But watching the images change rapidly on the surface of the water, she could not make things out distinctly, all she could sense was Nenya calling out to its sibling; Narya, the Ring of Fire, and she felt the danger towards that one of the Three.

She knew not what had happened when the mirror faded, becoming still water once more, but she did know that Narya had fallen into shadow; and that Gandalf had not been the bearer at the time.

But that left the horrible question; which one of the company had Narya taken into darkness with it?

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Deep within the bowels of the Mines of Moria, 3019, TA. January 16, - Morning.

Speeding down the long dark abyss, with only the fire of the Balrog to light his way; Gandalf wondered when everything had gone so wrong and when this final torment would end.

He had done his best to save all that could be saved, but he had not foreseen that Buffy would fall with him, and with her Narya. He resented the loss of the ring but mourned the tragic end of such a brave woman.

He knew that he himself could not survive a battle with this Balrog, that he had yet to kill, and whatever the creature had been that had attacked the slayer, it did not seem to him a thing to be put off the kill by any sort of drop.

No, it seemed that in the end, the bleak darkness Moria would have the last laugh as always.

And then they hit the dark water, and amidst the hissing of newly steaming water and the great splash caused by the impact, Gandalf the Grey fell into darkness.

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Deep within the bowels of the Mines of Moria, 3019, TA. January 16, - Morning.

Having untangled herself from her foe in the fall that seemed to happen in slow motion, Buffy Summers was beginning to believe in the term 'scared to death'. - Literally.

Tumbling through the darkness with all the grace of a cumbersome boulder, she really had to wonder at her luck.

She had chosen this course willingly, knowing what would be expected her; she had made the sacrifice willingly but she had to admit that she had expected her end to be somewhat quicker, and not the long drawn out affair that it seemed to be evolving into. Especially since she had yet to even see the bottom of this great big pit she was freefalling down.

She only hoped that her friends had all made it out safely, and that none of them had done anything foolish.

And if there was one consolation to this whole dying thing, it was that she would not have to watch Aragorn and Arwen marry. Or deal with Thranduil's bound to be considerable ire at aiding and abetting his runaway son despite all his letters to herself and Arwen to dissuade him.

She had been falling for what seemed like an eternity, the echoes of her own first scream still echoing against the stone walls, when she finally spotted the bottom of the damned hole.

Twisting herself as she fell so that she might be able to land on her feet, she spotted and overhanging rock jutting out from the wall and grabbed onto it with all her might.

Her hands scraped and bruised and her body slammed painfully into the rock face as she swung, clinging from the rough ledge but she did get the satisfaction of seeing the monster go splat first.

Glad that her momentum had been stopped and wincing at her new collection of injuries, she contemplated her options.

There were not many.

She could stay dangling here until her arms were numb or she could jump. Neither seemed to be good options, but when had she ever had a decent run of good luck since becoming the slayer? It was always one disaster after another.

Taking a deep breath, she took the only option that was open to her; still seeking survival against all the odds. She supposed that was either the sheer stubbornness that Elrond so often accused her of, or the determination of the slayer, but she wasn't giving up yet.

Closing her eyes with a little prayer, she let go and fell the next twenty feet, aiming for the pitch-dark, damp, and murky cavern that lay below her. She managed to land on her feet but the impact jarred her and she fell flat on her back as her head impacted against the cold, unforgiving stone and blackness overtook her.

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But unbeknownst to Buffy, even as she lay conscious and still in the cavern, was that the creature that she had tackled had not gone 'splat' after all.

For this was no ordinary creature of Middle Earth. It had been created with one sole purpose; to kill Buffy Summers, even if it knew not her name.

Created in the pits of Barad-dûr, with a vial of Buffy's own blood, procured by the Witch King so many year ago, it had come into existence to be a slayer of slayers.

Except without any of the weaknesses that the human Buffy possessed.

Though the Dark Lord knew not exactly who she was or even what she was, he knew that such a woman could not be allowed to aid his enemies and so he had set some of his minions to work to create something to fell her.

And so they had crossed the slayer strength with the strongest strains of orc and man they could find, and so created a creature that even the slayer would not be able to defeat.

Long had it lurked in the mines of Moria, having tracked her there once, but had not been able to pick up the trail outside the Dwarrowdelf, thanks to the bewitchment of the Elf-witch Galadriel of the Golden Wood, and so it had settled into the mines, waiting for its prey to return.

And contrary to Buffy's own opinion, the sword wound she had dealt it had not killed it, nor would it ever be a mortal wound. And so when it had hit the ground after the long fall, it had scuttled away into the welcoming darkness to nurse itself to good health and wait for another opportunity to strike.

More intelligent than the orcs it had been sprung from, it knew that Buffy too would have to seek a way out. And on such a route, when she was wearied and tired, it would be much easier to ambush her then and spare it the trouble of receiving such nuisances as wounds.

But mostly recovered now, it had resumed the hunt once more. The fiery creature, the Balrog of Morgoth, that he shared his hunting grounds with, had acknowledged him too, but had its own prey in the form of a wizard, and so it was left to hunt its unwitting maker uncontested by the strongest monster in the halls.

And as it scuttled silently through the dark passages, it picked up the scent of blood and as its own bloodlust rose to the surface, a feral grin twisted its features grotesquely as it closed in on an unsuspecting slayer.

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Deep within the bowels of the Mines of Moria, 3019, TA, January 17.

Having had a most unpleasant landing, Buffy had a most unpleasant awakening as well.

Her eyes snapping open as she slammed into the wall was not, in her opinion, the most ideal way to wake from rock induced unconsciousness but the monster doing all the throwing seemed to have no objections to the idea.

She barely managed to move quick enough to avoid the scimitar that embedded itself in the wall where her head had been, and she staggered gracelessly to her feet as she wheeled around to find the foe, that she thought she had killed, advancing on her with single-minded deadly intent.

Cursing her luck, she looked around for her missing sword, only to find the monster wielding it against her. Cursing, she hefted her mithril knife, and diving to the side, avoided the first swing of the monster, gasping as she flipped and rolled to the ground as her injured hip decided to protest the lack of painkillers.

Flipping to her feet, she looked around for a way out, and found that the only exit seemed to be the one that this cursed nuisance of a monster was blocking.

Seeing that her only hope lay in fighting, and winning, against it, she stood her ground and let it come.

It circled her for a few minutes and she took the opportunity to study it for any weaknesses. But to her eyes, it moved with a disheartening fluidity and strength. Falling back on her old well-tried techniques, she knew that if you didn't know how to kill something, cutting off its head was usually a good idea.

Except she didn't think this creature was going to go poof like vampires did so conveniently.

She had to get the extreme irony of it all. Here she was, still alive after doing her 'noble sacrifice' thing, and instead of getting a relatively quick death, the PTB seemed to be having bucket loads of fun trying to see how many times they could kill her off in various different ways. Like getting sliced and diced.

But even if she had expected to finally meet her end, she found that now that she was still alive and all, she strangely didn't feel like just giving up either. Which meant she was going to have to beat this little stalker of hers.

Taking the offensive, she launched herself at the monster but it evaded her with deadly speed and as its blade swung, she found herself being pushed back onto the defensive.

Block, parry, block, duck, became her mantra as she struggled to make her injured body move as fast as it could to counter the otherworldly speed of her opponent.

But as she once more found herself flat on her back, scrambling for her weapons, she realised with no little trepidation that trying to meet fire with fire didn't seem to be working.

But even though she poured her heart and soul into every swing of her sword, every punch, every kick, every shove; it wasn't enough.

Gasping for air, the muscles in her legs feeling like water, face flushed with a feverish glow, Buffy found herself weaponless, friendless and almost hopeless as she was pinned against the wall, and the cold metal of her own sword pressed against the flesh of her neck, drawing a thin red line of blood.

Knowing she was beaten, she could not help but struggle still but it contained her weakened struggles with abominable ease.

As her own sword was pulled back for the final blow, she made a dash for the exit but it grabbed her, spinning her around to meet the arc of the sword…

She knew not what happened next, and throughout all the long years of her life, she would never know what had truly happened but even as she threw her hands up to try to block the blow, she felt a… surge of something powerful fill the air and make the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. And even as she staggered back in shock at the sensation, she saw that the monster was inexplicably engulfed in flames, its shrieks echoing through the cavern as the unforgiving fire seared its flesh.

She was shocked but she did not waste her opportunity, and with scarcely a glance back at the strange spectacle, she raced out the cavern exit into the gaping darkness.

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But Buffy soon realised that though she may have escaped one foe, a more intangible one was waiting for its chance. She had run out of the cave into darkness, unrelieved pitch black darkness that not even her eyes could penetrate, and she had no sense of direction or any clue at all to where in the mines she now was.

What was worse though, was the echoing sound every noise made down here, and her footsteps sounded loud to her as she groped her way through what seemed to be a maze of twisting tunnels.

Her fear and panic mounting as she realised that she was hopelessly lost, she sat down on the cold ground and tried desperately to think of some way out of this mess.

Her senses registered evil, that she appeared to be right in the middle of, but the feeling was so spread across the mines that it offered her no help at all, save to incite more anguish and fear as she knew she was in no fit shape to take on anything much at the moment.

Trying to calm herself, and taking deep, steady breaths, she struggled to clamp down on the fear that threatened to overwhelm her and the pain that threatened to render her useless even to aid herself, but as she slowly succeeded in putting them out of her mind, something niggled at her from the very back of her brain.

Curious and desperate, she sought it out and with a start, realised that it was her long denied bond to Aragorn.

Bursting into a fit of most unslayerish hysterical laughter, she realised that the man that she had thought to die to save might just be the one that would now save her, however unwittingly.

Wherever Aragorn was, it was obviously not in the mines and if she knew Gandalf, she thought that he would lead them on to Lothlórien, to seek the aid of Lady Galadriel and the shelter and respite that would be available to the company in the Golden Wood.

Which meant that if she used her bond with Aragorn like a homing beacon, mayhap she stood a chance of escaping this nightmare after all.

And so, painfully getting to her feet, she soldiered on into the impenetrable darkness.

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Deep within the bowels of the Mines of Moria, 3019, TA, January 18.

A day later, Buffy was no longer so hopeful.

She had stumbled through the dark of Moria for a day at least, following the tentative sense that she could pick up on, and now she was exhausted, hungry, weary, wounded, and scared and she knew not how she was ever going to make it out of this hellhole. Or even if she would survive to make the attempt.

Her pack had been lost in her fight on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, and she only had her torn cloak, her sword and her Mithril knife and vest in her possession. None of which were edible.

Thirst and hunger were silent killers, as deadly as any other foe, and even if she had the luck to stumble across a water source in the mines, she knew that it was not fit to drink.

A voice in the back of her mind that sounded suspiciously like Spike seemed to be laughing at her stubbornness, and gleefully insisting that she was going to die in this pit, alone and scared, like all slayers did.

She was resolutely trying to ignore that voice.

Her hands were her new form of sight, as they groped along the rough corridors and tunnels of Moria, relying solely on them and her other senses to make up for her lack of sight in this pitch dark environment.

She struggled on as best as she could, but all she felt like doing was curling into a ball and crying her eyes out. It wasn't typical slayer behaviour, but it was Buffy behaviour, and it took all her willpower not to indulge in huge bout of crying.

The only thing that prevented her was the knowledge that if she stopped for any reason now, chances were she would not be able to get back up again.

When she heard the first sounds of gurgling water, she thought that she was going crazy, but the further she went on, the louder the sound grew, she had to believe it. Moreover, she started to feel some real hope at last.

Water would mean that the Dwarves would have built a well nearby, and where there was a well, there had to be a way out.

Speeding up her pace to an almost reckless speed, considering the conditions, in her eagerness to find a way out, she missed the subtle warning signs that she would have noticed had she been more alert and less exhausted.

Even as she turned down a side tunnel and made it to the threshold of a large-ish cavern, she spotted the fierce yellow glows that took the form of pairs of eyes, and she gulped in sudden shock and fear.

Orcs.

She had walked in on a group of orcs.

Gee, wasn't she just so lucky? she swore, even as she started to back-pedal.

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Back-pedalling furiously, she raced back out the way she had come, and dove down the nearest tunnel, hearing the excited shrieks and the scuttling sounds of the orcs as they poured out of their shelter in pursuit of fresh meat.

Her legs feeling like jelly from exhaustion, she forced herself to run as fast as she was able, pushing her battered body to its limits even as she heard the orcs split up to search through the labyrinth of tunnels that they knew much better than she ever would.

Panting for breath even as she tried to stifle any noise she might make, she raced down passageways and corridors with no mind to where she was going; only thinking to put distance between herself and her pursuers.

Flagging from the offset, she kept up her pace for an hour ere she was forced to come to a halt.

Slumping against the wall that braced her, she took a much needed rest, gaping in air in big heaving breaths and fighting off the need to sleep that grew ever more insistent with every passing minute.

Sinking to the ground, she rested her head on her knees and gave into the urge to cry, caring nothing for the orcs on her trail, as frustration and exhaustion worked together to drive her into such a state where she could only futile wish that this wasn't happening to her.

She fervently wished that she had someone here to help her, but she could not begrudge the fellowship for leaving her behind. She hadn't expected to survive her fall, so why should they expect her to?

But even as tears spilled down her dirt-smudged cheeks, she had to admit that for once, she would like someone else to shoulder the responsibility and save her for a change.

And so, as the slayer thought on her friends, and her loved ones, and the tears came hard and fast until her eyes were swollen and red; she cried herself into a restless sleep with the faint cries of the orc hordes and the pounding drum beat echoing through her mind.

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Deep within the bowels of the Mines of Moria, 3019, TA, January 19.

After a few hours of fretful slumber, Buffy Summers woke to the feeling of something watching her.

As she came awake fully, she noticed a familiar feeling teasing her, and she shook her head in an attempt to clear it. It just could not be possible.

But it did not go away, and Buffy was left to wonder why she was sensing a vampire, when she knew perfectly well that she had left that particular race of demons behind her in her old world.

Standing up cautiously, she clutched her sword in her fist, and watched the darkness warily.

She felt a cold rush of fear as she heard the faint movement of something above her, and even as she snapped her head up to look, it was coming towards her.

Having clung to the ceiling, a skill which no vampire she knew had ever been able to do, it descended on the fresh blood she offered with supernatural speed.

Buffy immediately saw that there was nothing wooden about to ward off this new foe, and the glistening fangs and obvious bloodlust left her in no doubt as to what it was. Even if it did have these odd wing thingys and didn't resemble a human as much as her normal breed of vampires did. But then again, it had a fair resemblance to the Turuk-kon that had plagued her last year in dear ol' Sunnydale.

But she had expected it to be weaker than it was and it overpowered her defences with shocking ease. Her sword was knocked out of her hands and a powerful talon sliced through her tunic, only her Mithril shirt preventing her from being gutted, and even as she leaped and used the wall to bounce across the small corridor, away from the vampire.

Elrond had told her of the vampires of Morgoth, the winged messengers of the Dark Lord, but he had told her that they had died long ago with their master in the First Age. Then again, the same had been said for Balrogs.

Perhaps they decided to shack up together, Buffy mused, and use their combined scariness to ensure that all the orcs co-habiting with them knew who the real bosses were.

Of course, the Elvenlord had also told her that they had been greatly feared, and impossible to kill, which sucked.

She could barely make it out in the darkness, only her senses were capable of telling her where it was and luckily for her, its bright yellow eyes gave it away to her.

It charged and so did she, but it was not as weakened as she was, and its cold taloned hand gripped her by the throat, and squeezed, lifting her off her feet.

She kicked it in the stomach with fierce desperation, and it let go of her, causing her to drop to the floor. Lashing out with her leg, she swept its feet out from under it and as it fell, she hauled herself up.

A rapid flow of motion followed; Buffy punching it in the face as it got up, and then leaping into a roundhouse kick aimed at its chest, but it yanked her leg before it impacted and she fell onto her back as it leaped onto her.

She struggled even as she felt the vampire shudder at the scent of fresh blood, as the wound on her neck had reopened, but just as its fangs sank into her neck, and it started to drink greedily, her hands searched frantically for any weapon.

With a cry of relief, she felt her hand close around the cold handle of her Mithril knife and swinging it wildly, she stabbed it through the vampire's neck and even as its head reared up, its teeth tearing a jagged wound in her throat as they left it, but despite the excruciating pain she persevered and sliding the Mithril blade through muscle and bone, she decapitated the vampire and it turned to dust atop of her.

The Vampire Slayer had won for the final time.

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Deep within the bowels of the Mines of Moria, 3019, TA, January 20.

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"Don't be so sure. You think you know. What's to come, what you are. You haven't even begun."

- The First Slayer as Tara, BtVS season four.

The slayer lay motionless, a cloud of dust covering her; her breathing laboured, blood pouring from the wound to her neck. Her skin felt cold, clammy and she could not summon enough energy to even try to stem the flow of blood and with sickening certainty, she knew that the vampire had torn an artery and so ensured that she would follow him in death soon after.

Even as she struggled to keep open her eyes, and failing, let them fall shut, she felt the presence of something intangible surround her, and she wondered idly was this how the slayer legacy was passed on.

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"I have no name. I live in the action of death, the blood cry, the penetrating wound. I am destruction. Absolute… alone…" she heard a voice whisper in her ear, and the slight, but definitely there, touch to her hair, and she knew that her predecessor, the First Slayer had come to take another Chosen One from the world.

And though she had never been fond of this ancestor of hers, she was grateful that in the end, she was not facing death alone, as she had always feared.

Her breathing grew more laboured and she felt the presence encompass her.

Her chest rose, then fell, then rose again and then fell…

And then stopped.

And a voice whispered through the gloom, as its owner looked upon the dead slayer, "Your destiny still awaits…."

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A/N: Oh dear. Isn't someone in trouble? So? What do you think? Buffy is finally dead. How is this going to affect the story? All opinions welcome! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!!!

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Next chapter: the fellowship arrives into the haven of Lórien… Galadriel re-enters the story with a bang…. revelations… mourning… and surprises…

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Elvish:

Peredhel - Half-Elven

Mithrandir - the Grey Pilgrim

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Aman - also called the Blessed Realm, Valinor or the Undying Lands. Home of the Elves in the West.

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Morgoth - the Dark Lord of the First Age. A fallen Vala, he destroyed the Two Trees of Valinor, Laurelin and Telparion, and killed Fëanor's father, the King of the Noldor. He decimated the armies of the First Age until at last a host from Valinor came to Middle Earth, and waged war on him for forty years before he was thrown down. Is not dead but trapped in the Void.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

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Varda - greatest of the Queens of the Valar. She is the maker of the stars, and the wife of Manwë.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

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«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	34. To Sleep Perchance to Dream

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: A belated Merry Christmas to all! And a happy new year as well! I hope that you all had a blast this Christmas!

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Review responses:

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Andrea35 - welcome back! And yes, my earlier chapters set up the slayer-killers angle quite nicely. And yes, maybe the ring will help?

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Anna - Sorry, no Oracles involved. And the destiny awaits thing… ah, yes, you are going to have to wait on that. And actually, I am not so evil as to leave Buffy out of this chapter…

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Dannii - I've never been offered flowers before…

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Dreamer Child - yes, Buffy is actually dead. The First Slayer was there for a reason, and so was the Voice. And Aragorn's in this chapter!

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FallenAdieu - thanks! :) Yes, everyone seems to be curious as to why I killed Buffy off. To further the plot of course. You'll understand in the future. And Aragorn is unaware of the bond, so he wouldn't know to use it to check to see if Buffy was really dead. And yes, I definitely have important plans for the Buffster.

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FallenStar2 - you probably should. I've been dropping hints all over the place. And when has Buffy ever done anything the easy way? But the suffering has a purpose besides angst, something to do with her future… ah yes, the voice. Was definitely meant to be very vague. Can't give everything away easily now, can I? And as regards the bond, Buffy has had lots more practice trusting her senses and she knows the bond is there thanks to Galadriel so that's why she's able to manipulate and use it a little bit. Aragorn doesn't even know its there, but it has cropped up subtly before, and will in the future.

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Haley - don't ever be sure that I won't go through with anything. I like surprising people. And you're on to something….

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Hedgehog - no merging with anyone!

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Imp17 - too right.

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Irina - okay, I so get you now. And I fully agree with you. I have tried to make Buffy the Slayer and Buffy the woman more reconciled to each other here so I'm glad to see that it's working.

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Jaide Gryphons - it's always nice to win someone over. :) And I try to do my best to weave Buffy into the story, while preserving Tolkien's story and his characters.

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Kit-kat - Thanks! And I got the RotK extended edition for Christmas!

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Light Spinner - True. And you don't have to wait long…

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Lisette - interesting spin on things.

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Loki2525 - Ringbearers CAN die. And don't worry, I hate Dawn as well. Immensely.

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Malfeus - never heard of it, I'm afraid.

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Mari - I always loved that line too. And the Valar and the PTB are different but serve much the same purpose.

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Ms8309 - Buffy will not be returning to Sunnydale.

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Phoenix83ad - and yes, I definitely take Joss Whedon's line to heart. And I would never have made Buffy's fall exactly like Gandalf's. Too much repetition. And no, Buffy will not be turning into a vampire.

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PrecariousPersonata - thank you! And I like making jaws drop! And not everything's meant to be explained in the course of a few chapters, I like planting hints all throughout the fic and laughing as my readers fail to realise that they are there until it's too late. It's evil and very fun.

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Sapph89 - thanks! The last chapter was short I'll admit, but this one is longer. And the vampire was a true figment of Tolkien's imagination so I felt that it was ironic and right to use it. And actually, no one's really asked me much about the sequel, except for how long after I finish this one is it starting. I haven't got everything exactly planned out but I've got so many plot bunnies floating around in my mind, it shouldn't be too long before I totally know where I'm going with it. Will the sequel have a happy ending? It's hard to tell as I don't know the ending yet. And will it be half as long as FK? Yes, it's bidding to be just as long.

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Shadow Master - thanks a lot! And I haven't killed her off twice. Only once. The Fellowship only assumed she died immediately. Obviously missing the finer details of a slayer's constitution. It's not a ploy to drag readers back, it's necessary for the story, some of which you will see in this chapter and some that won't be visible until the end. And about your idea on the Dwarves… no, not going to happen. And the PTB have given her that card once already.

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Shimmyontherooftops - why, thank you! Thanks for all the virtual sweets!

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Star - no reincarnation, don't worry! And yes, Buffy's determination, I feel, is an important part of her character. And I'll try not to do any body switching.

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Tenshikoneko03 - revelations come very, very soon… No to the Gandalf.

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Tiamante Salazar Tameran - no, there will be no 'Buffy the White.' A bit too tacky in my opinion. And it's nice to know that my 'Middle Earth Encyclopaedia' is appreciated!

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Zayra - zilch. The Aragorn/Arwen segment is over. Perhaps in another fic of mine?

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And major thanks to:

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Alexceasar, Allen Pitt, Becky, CAT, CharmingStar, Colon, Dream-Dancer-Salem, egastin77, Fairieangel, General Mac, goldenshadows, hi, Kurt, Lady of the Wood, Lali-chan, LilPyschoGrl51, Little Red Rabbit, Lunaworf, moonbunny77, N/A, Princess Serenity4, Sabia, Saint Maverick, Stix89, Tara6, Tsuki No Yasha, vixen519, Wild320,

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CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: TO SLEEP PERCHANCE TO DREAM

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"The major lesson of life is that just when you think you've understood things, something happens to turn your understanding upside down."

– Stephen Fry

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Lothlórien, 3019 TA, January 15, - late afternoon.

Heart-sore and weary, the fellowship reached the sheltering eaves of Lothlórien at evening-time; and the silence that had held since they set out after the disaster in Moria was broken by the indomitable Dwarf.

Gimli eyed the dense woods with no little suspicion, "Stay close, young Hobbits!" he said knowledgably, "They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell."

The hobbits looked at the trees fearfully at his words, while Legolas ignored his ignorance. Aragorn was too focused on his task to hear the Dwarf's words. Indeed, Aragorn was making sure to put all his mind to the task lest he break down from grief.

But Frodo nearly came to a sudden stop when an unfamiliar voice echoed through his mind, "_Frodo_!"

He gasped in shock but Gimli, beside him, never noticed as he went on, "And they are never seen again."

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"Your coming to us is as the footsteps of doom... You bring great evil here, Ring-bearer." the voice said.

Sam noticed the hobbit's frozen features, "Mr. Frodo?" he asked quietly, looking at the dark-haired halfling.

Gimli continued to extol his virtues in a way that had Legolas clenching his fists around his bow, "Well, here is one dwarf she will not ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox… Oh!" he came to an abrupt halt as an archer with a nocked bow seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and levelled the arrow at his face.

All around them, Elves stepped out of the trees with bows, surrounding them. Only Legolas had his bow drawn in turn, and then an Elf with white blonde hair stepped in front, clearly the leader, and a familiar face to some of the company.

"The Dwarf breathes so loud; we could have shot him in the dark." he said disdainfully, very obviously having heard the Dwarf's previous remarks.

Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him, knowing that he had brought the fellowship to safety on this venture. "Haldir o Lórien. Henio aníron, boe ammen i dulu lîn. Boe ammen veriad lîn." he said, (_Haldir of Lórien. We come here for help. We need your protection.)_

"The name of Aragorn son of Arathorn is known in Lórien," said Haldir in return, recognising the oft bedraggled ranger, "And he has the favour of the Lady. Prince Legolas of Mirkwood is known to us also," he continued, with a nod towards the prince, "But the others we know not. And we do not normally admit strangers into our realm in these troubled days. But we have been waiting for you."

Gimli eyed the Elves with blatant distaste, "Aragorn!" he said urgently, "These woods are perilous. We should go back."

Haldir looked blankly at the Dwarf, "You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back. Come. She is waiting."

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The fellowship trailed behind the Elves, most of which returned to their watch until only Haldir was left with them, and he was to lead them to Caras Galadhon, and the home of the Lord and Lady.

Though unused to the needs of the mortal races, as Aragorn was hardier than most men; Haldir recognised the exhaustion in most of the company, and so let them rest for a while at the hill of Cerin Amroth.

While the others drifted away, he pulled Legolas aside, "What has happened, my lord?" he asked, "What shadow lies upon your company to bring a Dwarf into these woods?"

"You know my name, Haldir. Use it," Legolas reminded him wearily, "But to answer your question, we have passed through the shadow of the mines of Moria, and endured much weariness and toil. And now grief lies upon us, for a horror came upon us unawares in the dark of Khazad-dûm. But I dare not speak of it yet."

Legolas then left the contemplative Haldir to his thoughts and his watch guard, and sitting down upon the soft grass, he watched Aragorn, just as Frodo did; save that the Elf had much more cause to worry over his long time friend. He knew that Aragorn had relied on both Buffy and Gandalf deeply, and to lose them both at the same time would be a hard blow for the man. Perhaps too hard.

The ranger looked lost as he bent down and picked up a small golden bloom of elanor, but as they watched, a light came into his eyes, as if of some fair memory. And even as Frodo looked on in wonderment, and Legolas in curiosity, they knew that they beheld things as they once had been in this same place.

For the grim years were removed from the face of Aragorn, and he seemed clothed in white, a young lord tall and fair; and he spoke words in the Elvish tongue to one whom Frodo could not see, but who Legolas knew well. '_Melme vanimelda, námarië!_' he said softly, recalling a time when Buffy had dared him to a chase here many years ago, and where for once, they had both been carefree, laughing and playing amongst the vibrant elanor.

Aragorn drew a shaky breath as his fist closed around the flower, and struggled to regain his calm. Now was not the time to grieve, he would not scare the hobbits by giving into his pain.

Looking at Frodo, who watched him still, he faked a smile, and said, "Here is the heart of Elvendom on earth," he said, his voice mercifully strong, "And here my heart dwells ever, unless there be a light beyond the dark roads that we still must tread, you and I." With Buffy's death, and the looming departure of his family to the Undying Lands, he would rather remember happier days with them all.

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, January 17, - evening.

As the fellowship were led into the beauteous city of Caras Galadhon, woven into the gold and silver mellryn trees as if it had always been there, even Gimli was in awe of the sheer breath-taking beauty of this ethereal city.

Celeborn and Galadriel's home was in the tallest mallorn tree in the city, and they were led up the quiet looping staircase, increasingly aware of the curious gazes of the Galadhrim, wondering at the curious party in their midst.

At last reaching the receiving chamber of the Lord and Lady, they waited, trying to ignore the looks of the Elves gathered there.

The couple in question descended the stairs in a glow of bright light, almost blinding the fellowship until Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel stood in front of them; tall and fair; their wise eyes seeming to see into their souls.

Celeborn's silver hair swished as he looked at the company wonderingly, "Here there are eight," he said, "Ten were to set out; so said the messages. But maybe there has been some change of counsel that we have not heard. Elrond is far away, and darkness gathers between us, and all this year the shadows have grown longer. But did Gandalf not come with you? Was he not to lead your party? And the Lady Dagnir to follow? Now tell us where they are; for I much desire to speak with him."

"Nay, there was no change of counsel," said the Lady Galadriel, speaking for the first time, her startlingly blue eyes sombre. "Gandalf the Grey and Lady Dagnir set out with the company, but they did not pass the borders of this land." Her gaze landed on Aragorn, and her eyes went wide, "They have fallen into Shadow…" she whispered.

"Alas!" Aragorn replied, his head bowed in grief, "'Tis true. Buffy and Gandalf the Grey fell into shadow. They remained in Moria and did not escape its evils."

At these words, all the Elves in the hall cried aloud in grief and amazement, shock running rampant that two so strong should have fallen.

"Ai! Dagnir has fallen to shadow! Alas for Middle Earth. The lands shall not benefit from this loss." Galadriel said, her hand flying to her mouth in shock as the meaning of her strange vision now became clear.

"These are evil tidings," Celeborn said, his face and voice grim, and he spared a glance at his shocked wife, knowing how fond she was of Buffy, and how much hope she had had for Mithrandir, "This is the most evil that have been spoken here in long years full of grievous deeds." He turned to Haldir then, his gaze sharp, "Why has nothing of this been told to be before?" he asked in the Elven-tongue.

"We have not spoken to Haldir of our deeds or our purpose," said Legolas, his fair voice sad as he defended the stalwart march-warden, "At first we were weary and danger was too close behind; and afterwards we almost forgot our grief for a time, as we walked in gladness on the fair paths of Lórien."

"Yet our grief is great and our loss cannot be mended," said Frodo, his shoulders slumped and his eyes dull, "Gandalf was our guide, and he led us through Moria; and when our escape seemed beyond hope he saved us, and he fell. And Buffy fell before him, saving the company from some terror of the mines."

"Tell us the full tale!" Celeborn commanded, "These tidings may be evil but I would rather know the enemy that dispatched two such as them than be ignorant as to its strength."

And so Aragorn, the unofficial leader of the company now, took up the tale of their dark passage of Khazad-dûm, and the perils they had faced. His voice shook as he described the falls of Buffy and Gandalf, and their own escape from the horror of the mines.

He paused to let the tale sink in, and then he spoke of the creature that had claimed Gandalf's life. "An evil of the Ancient World it seemed, as I have never seen before. It was both a shadow and a flame, strong and terrible." But he would not name it. He was too afraid that his voice would break.

"It was a Balrog of Morgoth," said Legolas, his eyes shadowed, "Of all Elf-banes the most deadly, save the One who sits in the Dark Tower."

"Indeed I saw upon the bridge that which haunts our darkest dreams, I saw Durin's Bane," Gimli added in a low voice, and dread was in his eyes at the memory.

Galadriel surveyed the weary company compassionately, but Frodo thought he saw well-honed steel behind those fathomless blue eyes, "Choices have been made but more still lie before you." Galadriel said, looking at Frodo, "Your quest is known to us. But we will not here speak of it more openly. Yet not in vain will it prove, maybe, that you came to his land seeking aid, as Gandalf himself plainly purposed."

She paused, "It was I who first summoned the White Council. And if my designs had not gone amiss, it would have been governed by Gandalf the Grey, and then mayhap things would have gone otherwise. But even now, there is hope left. I will not give you counsel, saying do this or do that. For not in doing or contriving, nor in choosing between this course and another, can I avail; but only in knowing what was and is, and in part also, what shall be. But this I will say to you; your quest stands upon the edge of a knife." Galadriel said solemnly, "Stray but a little, and it will fail to the ruin of all."

Here, she stared at Boromir, and he shifted uncomfortably. "Yet hope remains while the Company is true." she continued, looking at Sam, who stared back fearlessly.

"Do not let your hearts be troubled." she said softly, "Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace…"

But as the company followed one of Galadriel's handmaidens to their resting place, Frodo once more heard the voice in his head, save this time it had a name attached to it, - Galadriel. "_Welcome, Frodo of the Shire, one who has seen the Eye!"_

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The company were disquieted when they were once more left alone; with the promise of food, drink and new clothes to come in the near future.

None had escaped the probing eye of the Lady Galadriel, and some were more discomfited than others but each felt that he was offered the choice between a shadow full of fear that lay ahead, and something that he greatly desired.

But none volunteered what it was or what the shadow before them had been.

But when Gimli and Boromir seemed inclined to believe the 'witch' tales of Galadriel, Aragorn roused himself long enough to chastise them.

"Speak no evil of the Lady Galadriel!" Aragorn said sternly, "You know not what you say. There is in her and in this land, no evil, unless a man brings it hither himself. Then let him beware! But tonight I shall sleep without fear for the first time since I left Rivendell. And may I sleep deep, and forget for a while my grief! I am weary in body and in heart."

Mercifully, the man and Dwarf said no more on the matter, and instead turned to the matter of their own comfort. Gimli, especially, seemed to be wary of being the only Dwarf in the heart of Elvendom in Middle Earth.

But the hobbits were weary and grief-stricken, and when they heard a haunting melody being sung throughout the forest, they asked Legolas what it was.

The Elven Prince's eyes were dark with sorrow, and his reply was short, "A lament for the fallen ones."

"What do they say about them?" Merry asked.

Legolas moved away, "I have not the heart to tell you. For me the grief is still too near."

But when the food and drink came, along with clean clothes, and the rest of the fellowship went to partake in it and forget their grief for a while, Aragorn still remained where he had thrown himself; - sprawled against the sturdy trunk of a mallorn, his expression dark and lost.

So engrossed was he in his own dark musings, he did not hear the Lady Galadriel approach him.

"Aragorn," she called softly, causing him to look up, "Your grief wears heavy on you."

"I found my heart only to lose her," the ranger replied bitterly, "But it seems to be that all things that I love are taken away from me."

"From your tale, she did the only thing she could to save you." Galadriel said gently, "You must not either blame her, or blame yourself, for what was necessary. Your destiny is still before you."

"With no hope, no strength. Nothing to carry me through the battles to come," Aragorn replied darkly, "What kind of king would I be then? How could I ever even come to claim it?"

Galadriel only looked at him for a moment, "Come," she said to the devastated man, "This is not the discussion to be overheard by curious ears, come with me."

And standing, Aragorn allowed himself to be led away by Galadriel without any protest.

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The Mirror Grove, Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, January 17, - night.

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"After all, there's a reason they say that love is a two-edged sword -  
Because love is sharp, it pierces -  
And love is a needle that sews shut the holes in our hearts -  
That mends our soul -  
But it can also cut, cut deep, wound, kill."  
-Dean Koontz -

Galadriel had long known of Arwen's decision; her granddaughter having mind-spoke to her to convey the news that she chose immortality, and so stayed within the bosom of her relieved family.

She had also conveyed that it was an Elf who had a hold on her heart, and now that he was within Galadriel's grasp, the Lady of the Wood was determined to ascertain his feelings as well.

But first, she had to take care of a grieving ranger, whose love had fallen into the deeps of Moria, with no hope of return.

She honestly knew not what to do; she had never imagined that Buffy would fall, and especially not after Aragorn was aware of his affections for her.

This tragedy left behind a grieving man, and though she wished to mourn her friend also, she knew that she could not allow the rightful king of Men despair when he had yet to claim his throne. As he must, if Middle Earth were to survive.

"We love quite well... if not wisely." she began, "I mourn her too Aragorn, but you cannot allow your grief to consume you. Think you that she would have wanted you to be so hurt and lost?"

"Who knows what she would have wanted?!" Aragorn spat out, "She died believing I regarded her only as a friend, whilst my feelings had undergone such a monumental change as to leave 'friend' far behind in what I wished to be to her."

"She was a slayer. 'Twas her fate. She knew this. She obviously accepted it. You can rail against this all that you wish, but it does not change what has happened," Galadriel said urgently, "Will you let her sacrifice be in vain?! You must unite the Men of Middle Earth or else Sauron will consume them, and Middle Earth will be lost to his evil forever. She would never have wanted that!"

Aragorn turned away from her, and his expression was rebellious against her reason, "Do you think that I ever wanted to be king? I never have! Always, I have heard it said that it is my duty, but it is one that I do not want to accept! To be confined in the trappings of a king, to forgo the wilds forever; to try to rebuild a shattered kingdom where the stewards have reigned peacefully for over a thousand years and where no one wants the return of the king! Think you I wanted that?!"

"The Steward's line is failing," Galadriel said, "Denethor of Gondor descends into madness. Gondor's defences will not hold unless the King once more comes amongst them."

"What good can one man do?" Aragorn said, his bitterness obvious. "And what of Boromir and his brother? Are they not next in line after their father?"

Galadriel knew that she had to choose her words carefully, "Boromir of Gondor is a good man, but his father has forced him into this mission against his judgement, and when the reason of his mind wars with the conflict of his heart, he may not be able to stand against the Ring. As for the younger son, Faramir, his father despises him. Gondor needs her King, Elessar. Everyone has a destiny, some great, some small but all must fulfil it. They will all have their part to play ere the end, but if the King does not return to his lands, all their valour will be lost and Sauron will overrun the kingdoms of Men."

Aragorn's shoulders slumped in defeat, "You know that I will do my duty. I always do. But I take no joy in it. All joy seems to be lost to me of late."

"Do not despair, Elessar," Galadriel said, her eyes brightening as she sensed some happiness in his future, "Mayhap all is not yet lost after all…"

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As the days passed away under the sheltering boughs of the Golden Wood, the fellowship mourned and slowly but steadily, began to move on from the loss of two of their companions.

Very soon, they had established their own routines in the ethereal forest, and some of them took even the serene Galadhrim by surprise.

A favoured guest and a much admired lord, Legolas was away much among the Galadhrim, and after the first night, he did not sleep with the other companions, though he returned often to eat and talk with them. Often he took Gimli with him when he went abroad.

And so began the most unusual thing that the Galadhrim were likely to have seen in the last five hundred years. - An Elf and a Dwarf becoming friends.

It started off with the need for Gimli to be shown around, a job that Legolas had been forced to volunteer for, expecting the Dwarf to be his normal insulting self and the Lórien Elves had begged off the task. What he had found surprised him though. For Gimli Glóin's son was hopelessly taken with the Lady of the Golden Wood, and if Galadriel ruled Lothlórien, then the forest must be one of the most beautiful places in Middle Earth.

From this simple crush, an understanding grew between them and they started to let go of the feud of their fathers, and enjoy each others company underneath the mellryn. Even the Fellowship was stunned; they all vividly remembered the war that had gone on in the valley of Rivendell.

Before a few days had past, they were laughing and joking like old comrades, the malice of their earlier days long put aside as grudging respect grew into a liking for the other.

It did not mean that they suddenly stopped insulting the other. On the contrary, the insults increased in quantity and quality, but they were only jests and they delighted in their game of constant one-man-gunmanship, always striving to outdo the other. Their insults could strip each other's hides but were always well meant, though to any outsiders listening to them, it could sound like they would have liked nothing more than to kill the other slowly and painfully.

It was to be start of an extraordinary fellowship, one that would blossom to take them both to the ends of Middle Earth and to Valinor itself but only Galadriel marked its significance, and the strength of the Dwarf's regard for her.

Also, as the hobbits most often stayed together, and Legolas and Gimli often wandered together now, Boromir and Aragorn were often thrown together and under their forced companionship, a grudging and reluctant respect began to grow in them.

As Boromir became less wary of the Elves, and as Aragorn started to conquer his grief in his commitment to his duty, they began to see that at heart they were not so different after all, despite the issue of the Kingship, which always lay between them.

And unbeknownst to them all, the seeds of darkness in some of their hearts began to give away in the soothing calm of Lórien.

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After the careful urging of Galadriel to open his heart to his friends, Aragorn knew that the time had come to reveal the truth to Legolas. He knew that for some reason Galadriel seemed inordinately pleased with this plan, but he did not know why. But whatever the reason for her interest in the matter, he had to do this if only to escape from the endless askance and puzzled glances the Prince shot him regularly, especially if he was giving in to a bout of melancholy at the time.

And so after finding Legolas and Gimli debating the merits of Elven warfare versus the Dwarven style, he pulled his friend aside into a sheltered grove, with the intent to speak with him on matters that he had too long kept to himself.

"What ails you Aragorn?" Legolas asked his friend in confusion, not knowing why he had been so urgently pulled away by the ranger.

"I would speak to you of things that have disrupted our friendship of late," Aragorn said softly, sitting down and urging Legolas to follow suit, "Like what I imagine seems my flagrant disrespect towards Arwen."

Legolas's face went carefully blank, "That is between you and the Lady, Aragorn." he replied.

"Not anymore," the ranger said, "I think that you have noticed my attentions towards Buffy ere her fall?" he said steadily, and commended himself on his composure.

"I have." the Elven Prince answered with no infliction in his tone whatsoever.

"Mellon, 'tis time to relate to you the full tale of my last parting with Undómiel," Aragorn said seriously, and noticed the unintentional spark of interest that clearly showed on his friend's face, "We both came to some realisations, some of us sooner than others, but I understand her purpose now." (Evenstar)

He looked earnestly at his long time friend, "Legolas, before the Fellowship left Imladris, Arwen and I broke our troth. 'Twas Arwen's decision; she had discovered that she loved me as a brother and no more, and that the love that had once existed between us had waned with the years. I, I admit, was not happy with this decision and our parting was bitter. For she told me that for a long time now, my heart had belonged to another, and I refused to believe her fair words. But as the time has passed, and the wound healed, I have learned that she was right. I loved Buffy… and though she is now gone from me, I must tell you that Arwen set herself free, and with her, me. Arwen has chosen an immortal life, and will sail West when the time comes."

Legolas felt the first flutters of hope in his heart at his friend's words, but he had loved Arwen too long and too deeply to open himself to fresh grief without absolute proof. He could not fight with a broken heart. And Eru knew that his homeland needed every able-bodied warrior desperately.

"You still wear the Evenstar jewel. Why?" he asked, his eyes fixed on the beautiful chain around his friend's neck.

Aragorn fingered the pendant, hearing Arwen's words in his mind.

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'It is mine to give to whom I will. Like my heart. And I wish for it to you with you on your journey, gwanur and for it to help you and your companions ward off the shadow.' (kinsman)

"She gave it to me to ward off the shadow," Aragorn said at last, "She said that when we met again, at the end of the war, I could return it to her then."

Legolas felt those flutters of hope increase in strength with every word that the man spoke, "Aragorn, please do not toy with me. Is this tale true?"

Aragorn was surprised at Legolas's question, and studying his friend, he was surprised to find real anguish and hope there. Legolas could not care for Arwen, could he?

With that somewhat unsettling thought in his head, Aragorn put his friend out of his misery, "Aye," he replied, "Every word is the truth, meldiren." (my friend)

A small smile spread unwittingly over the prince's fair features, and Aragorn's breath caught at the sweetness of it. Legolas _did_ care for her, he realised in shock.

"Then I thank you for sharing this with me, nín mellon," Legolas said, standing up, "But I must go now. This is startling news indeed."

Aragorn could only nod dumbly as his friend left to wander amongst the comfort of the trees. How could he not have seen this?

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When Aragorn wandered back to the clearing where the fellowship were housed, he found it empty save for Boromir, who paced anxiously. Feeling compassion for the fretting warrior, he went over to him, "Take some rest. These borders are well protected. You have nothing to worry over here."

Boromir looked at him in surprise, in a rare unguarded moment, "I will find no rest here. I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me, 'Even now there is hope left.' But I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope."

He sat down on the ground in despair and worry, and Aragorn joined him.

"My father is a noble man," Boromir began quietly, "But his rule is failing. And then our…" he stumbled over the word, before continuing, "Our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right, and I, I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored."

He looked at the ranger and a light was in his eyes, "Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The white tower of Ecthelion. Glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver. Its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?"

"I have seen the White City. Long ago." Aragorn said softly.

Boromir smiled at him, hope beginning to grow, "One day, our paths will lead us there. And the tower guard shall take up the call: 'The Lords of Gondor have returned.' What think you of that, Aragorn?"

"I know not where our paths may lead us," the ranger replied, "Who can tell in these dangerous times?"

"Will you come with me to Gondor, Aragorn?" Boromir asked, "Will you come to my city? Will you help to rally our people? They are weary of this war, and lose hope. Will you not give it to them? Will you help hold the city?"

"If my path leads me to Gondor, Boromir," Aragorn replied, "Then I shall not see the White City fall without a fight. You have my word."

Boromir smiled then and laughed, "Then mayhap this is not the end of my land." he said with quiet hope, "And maybe the Lords of Gondor will return for good, and so will the glory of Gondor be restored. Maybe hope will come to us once again…"

And he drifted off into visions of the glory of Gondor undimmed, and his city surviving the war that was coming to its gates, and unbidden, within Aragorn, he felt more than a duty towards the White City. As if Boromir's heartfelt words had awoken a love and a desire to help his people deep in his heart.

Maybe Gondor would see its King after all. Just maybe.

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The East-Gate of Khazad-dûm, the Dimrill Dale, January 21, 3019, TA.

In the desolate plain of the Dimrill Dale, empty with a flawless blanket of stone covering the strong rock and grass that made it, something happened to disturb the stillness.

Through the open doors to the dreaded mines of Moria, the flickering light of fire could be seen, lighting up the darkness behind the doors.

As the fire grew in strength, a light rain began to fall outside in the dale, and a brisk wind stirred the air, tossing the snow into spinning heaps of slush.

The fire died suddenly, and a few minutes later, a small blonde figure staggered out of the entrance to the mines.

The wounded, battered and exhausted figure sank to the ground in the blessed daylight, and then pushed itself to its feet again; staggering ever onwards to the wood in the distance.

The slayer had returned.

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The River Nimrodel, the realm of Lothlórien, 3019 TA, January 22.

Haldir, March-warden of Lórien, was once more patrolling the realm's borders. Since the fellowship's arrival, two bands of orcs had already tried to gain entry to Lórien. The Elves made sure to leave none alive.

And now his Lady had made it known to him that she expected more severe attacks in the future and that war was brewing, and now in motion and that Lórien's defences had to be ready for them. And so Haldir was travelling from border-post to border-post, making sure that the plans were being implemented.

His last visit of the day was to the flet near the River Nimrodel, and he stopped to listen to the soothing music of the waters; a welcome relief from the tension of war preparations.

Strolling along the lush green back, still bearing the marks of the orc-feet that had dared to defile it, he stopped as his sharp eyes spotted something on the opposite bank.

Wary and curious, he waded across the river and came to what looked to be a bundle of rags on the ground. How had the patrols missed this? He wondered.

Reaching the bundle, he let out a shocked gasp as he realised that it was no bundle of rags, but a person.

Hurrying, he turned the body over and as the ragged remnants of a cloak fell back, he saw the singed blonde hair and the bloody form, and shock took him.

Dark bruises and bloody wounds combined with the ragged shreds of clothes made it hard to identify the unfortunate soul, but weary hazel eyes cracked open and as he looked into eyes that were now shadowed, he knew who it was.

"By the Valar! Buffy!" he cried in disbelief, "I thought you were dead!"

"You'd be surprised how often I get that," Buffy croaked, and then knowing she had made it to her destination, her head fell back against his arm, and she retreated into the painless depths of unconsciousness.

Shrugging off his own cloak, he wrapped her cold form in it, and carefully, he picked her up, and started to run, his gait as smooth and steady as he could make it, signalling to another startled group of Elves to warn the Lady of who he was bearing to her.

How Buffy had returned after being presumed dead, he knew not, but he knew that she would not survive for much longer if he did not get her to the Lady.

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"You're the one that I wanted to find  
And anyone who tried to deny you,  
Must be out of their mind…"

- Coldplay, - "Green Eyes"

When Aragorn emerged from the bathing pools, fresh and clean, he emerged into chaos as he saw Elves running to and fro with violent urgency.

"What is going on?" he asked a passing Elf.

"The Lady Dagnir has been found by the March-warden, gravely wounded," the Elf said hurriedly, "And the Lady Galadriel is in a flurry, preparing for her arrival."

Aragorn scarcely registered the words past 'Lady Dagnir has been found' and not even bothering to thank the Elf, he took off towards the road to the city, where Haldir would have to be coming.

Running with speed and stamina lent to him by his great need, he reached Haldir in half and hour, and he nearly wept at the sight of the familiar battered form in the Elf's arms.

"Buffy!" he cried, rushing to her side. Haldir slowed to let him join them, knowing of the great friendship between them. The very sight of that half-dead form caused a swell of anger in the ranger unlike anything that he had ever experienced before, and he felt the sudden urge to reassure himself that she was alive. She had come back to him.

"Give her to me," he demanded quietly but forcefully, causing Haldir's eyebrows to arch in question, but at Aragorn's forceful expression, he acquiesced to the odd request and decided to give some credence to the rumours in the city regarding the Lord of Men and the Slayer.

The ranger gently gathered the slight form to him, at once relishing in the rise and fall of her chest and on the other hand, filled with a powerful rage at this hint of what she had obviously suffered, judging by the pitiful state of her.

Pressing a tender kiss to her hair, he hurried back to Caras Galadhon, his own healer's eyes telling him that she was badly hurt and needed the tending of the Lady Galadriel.

But despite his worries, his heart could not but rise up in joy that it was true, and that Buffy had not departed for the halls of the dead, past the circles of the world.

Perhaps they had a chance after all…

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, January 22.

The rest of the fellowship was together in their clearing when Legolas raced in with the news that Buffy had been found.

At once there was instant uproar as they all tried to talk over each other, but Legolas did not say to answer any of their questions to their satisfaction before he took off for Lady Galadriel's home, where Buffy was to be brought.

He reached the halls just as Aragorn was rushing up the stairs, flanked by Galadriel, Buffy in his arms.

Racing up the steps, he reached Aragorn just as Galadriel and Celeborn took Buffy from the ranger into the healing rooms, and allowing no one else in, all but forced Aragorn to stay outside.

Legolas put his hand on Aragorn's shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly, "All will work out in the end, mellon," he said, "Let the Lord and Lady look after her now."

And then he led the torn ranger away to wait.

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The healing rooms, Galadriel's Halls, Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, January 22.

Galadriel's wide eyes met Celeborn's over Buffy's still form, and she saw the same shocked incomprehension in his eyes as she knew was in her own. How could this be?

They had laid the slayer out on a bed, and set to work examining the numerous wounds and starting the long process of healing the injured woman.

She had had Aragorn set her down on the grass outside the tree for a moment, to give a quick look over Buffy and see what wounds needed the most attention. And that was where the first strange thing had happened.

Aragorn had not noticed in his worry, but Galadriel's sharp eyesight caught it.

As the Lady of the Wood gently moved the slayer, she had seen the first shoots of a white tree flowering…

A white tree that had not flowered in the wood of Lothlórien. Ever.

And now that they were in the privacy of the healing rooms, alone with the calm presence that was her unflappable husband, and Aragorn was firmly kept out of the room, they could spend more time studying the changes they sensed in her.

"She is not what she once was. She is different. Stronger." Galadriel half-whispered.

"Look at her finger, meleth." Celeborn said grimly.

Galadriel followed his gaze, and was shocked into speechless for the second time that day. "Narya!" she gasped as she saw the familiar gold band and red stone. "How did this happen? Gandalf was its bearer!"

"Gandalf entered Moria against all counsel," Celeborn replied, "Perhaps he knew that it was not his fate to come out again."

Galadriel's gaze drifted between her own Nenya, and the strangely flickering Narya, "This complicates things…" she said as she touched the ring and gasped as her foresight overtook her.

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(( A dark-haired boy child gripping his mother's skirts… "Naneth!" he squealed, running to the woman, "Look!"….. Aragorn, the crown of Gondor upon his head… an army massing at the gates of Gondor… Two blondes staring at the marching orcs in fear… and then a voice she remembered from a life long ago, in the West, "Her destiny still awaits, daughter of Finarfin…." ))

Jerking out of the vision, the voice of Varda lingering in her mind, she looked again at her friend.

"Yes, this complicates things indeed…." she said, eyes locked on the ghostly pale face.

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The fellowship were keeping vigil in a nearby room during the time that Galadriel exerted all her skill to keep Buffy in the land of the living once more.

But at last, after many hours of waiting, the weary Lady of the Wood came to them. At once, their heads snapped up to stare at her expectantly.

"She has not awoken yet," the Lady began, "And her wounds are grave. I fear she has suffered much. But we have carried her out of danger, and she should be whole again in time. I know not what has happened to her; that is a tale that only she can answer. But she shall live."

"Can I see her?" Aragorn demanded.

Galadriel looked at him knowingly, "A few of you at a time may, but if she wakes, you are not to overwhelm her. She needs rest."

Aragorn scarcely remembered to acknowledge her before heading to Buffy's side.

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The healing rooms, Galadriel's Halls, Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, January 23.

After many hours had passed, and Legolas had watched Aragorn's head nod forward for the tenth time, he had tried to get him to seek rest.

Naturally, Aragorn had refused.

And so Legolas had shown all the wiles of his father, and taking a cue from his sire's book, enlisted Merry and Pippin's help to slip a sleeping draught into the ranger's drink.

And so it was that Legolas was alone with Buffy, when her heavy lids cracked open and hazel eyes focused on the blonde figure in the chair beside her bed. "Legolas?" she croaked raspily.

"Buffy!" he cried, and took her hand in his, "How do you feel?"

"Like a Balrog chewed me and then spit me back out again," Buffy rasped. "But then again, what's new?"

Legolas saw the newfound shadow in the slayer's eyes and worried, sought to lighten her heart. "I have some good news, mellon nín," he said.

"What? Sauron broke his neck and died?" she joked, the lines of weariness beginning to show in her bruised face.

"No, mellon, you may get your heart's desire. Elrond and fate have intervened on your behalf. Arwen and Aragorn are no longer betrothed. Arwen is to sail West when the time comes and Aragorn is free. Their troth is broken! Buffy?"

Buffy could not resist the heavy hand of sleep that threatened to take her under, but her mind picked up some of the words that he spoke, 'Elrond intervened… Arwen to sail West… their troth is broken…' and she understood. But though she wished to ask more, her eyes slid closed and she sank into slumber once more.

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The healing rooms, Galadriel's Halls, Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, January 24.

When next the fellowship saw her, she was awake and she smiled broadly when they filed in, "You have no idea how good it is to see you again!" she said, her voice still hoarse.

"You seem to be in considerably better spirits," Legolas said with a smile of his own.

"I missed you guys! Is that so wrong? I missed you." Buffy protested, "And you all missed me too, even though I'm sure Boromir doesn't want to admit it to himself."

Aragorn wasted no time in first hugging her, and then chastising her, "You could have gotten yourself killed, do you understand that?!"

Buffy rolled her eyes, thinking back to her latest death, "Yes, Aragorn, I understand killed very well."

But after the greetings and well wishes were over, they all wanted to know what had happened to her, and had she seen Gandalf? And so she was forced to revisit memories she would much rather forget, "Where do I start with the bad?" she mused, and then launched into the tale, editing quite a lot to save on some heart attacks, until at last she finished with, "Pain. Death. Monsters. None of it fun."

But though most of them were appeased, those who knew her better were not, and Aragorn especially, determined not to miss his second chance, wondered exactly what had happened to her in Khazad-dûm.

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Two days later, Buffy was judged well enough, thanks to her own healing and Galadriel's ministrations, to walk around the city freely. Galadriel had informed her that there was to be a celebration held in honour of her return, and she wished to enjoy her solitude while she still could.

And so now that she was not surrounded by well meaning attendants, Aragorn had decided to take his opportunity, lest he lose the courage to do so.

Finding the lady in question in the woods, he stumbled at the sight of her. It was a rare enough sight to see Buffy in a dress; she was most often clad in the garb of a warrior but here she was not only wearing a dress, she was wearing one so beautiful that it would befit any noble. The snug green velvet hugged her hips and then fell in lavish folds to the floor, showcasing her figure in such a way that left Aragorn's throat dry.

"Might I have a word?" he asked her, coming up behind her.

"Have a sentence, even." Buffy replied in bemusement.

Unable to resist, when he reached her, he drew her in for a kiss that left her gasping for breath. She tried to move away but Aragorn's grip held her close.

Finally, she managed to push him away, "Aragorn what were you thinking?!" she exclaimed, as she stared at him in a mixture of indignation and shock. Without even waiting for an answer, she gave in to her desire to panic, "Okay, I'm not panicking. I'm not... I'm not. Stop looking at me like I'm panicking! Now what the hell did you do that for?!"

"Buffy, I kissed you," Aragorn said, watching her fret and panic, "I have feelings for you."

"There are just so many problems with this that I don't even know where to begin." Buffy snapped, "In case you've forgotten you're engaged to Arwen!"

"I am not. Our troth is broken," he pleaded, but Buffy did not believe him. She saw the hand of Elrond in this little mess.

"I don't believe you." she said, and looked away.

He was about to say something harsh when he saw the look on her face. She seemed exhausted, bone weary. And so he decided getting into a shouting match with her was not the best start to a courtship.

"Buffy, I love you with all my heart," he said, going to her, and taking her hands in his, "I nearly went insane with grief when I thought you dead. And I vowed not to hold back again, but to tell you of my feelings. Buffy, I love you, I want to court you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, come what may. I know you return my love. Will you not accept my heart?"

Buffy's face was troubled but unreadable. Moving away she paced for a while ere she sat down. Playing with a shoot of elanor, the flower that grew abundantly in the grass, she was silent for a long while.

Aragorn, his heart beating with love, fear, and hope, tried to be as patient as he may, and wait for her to think things through. He loved her beyond reason, he knew. No matter what her response was, his heart was hers to accept or to throw away. And though the latter would pain him beyond measure, he could have forced himself to be happy for her if Arwen, and Galadriel had not reassured him of her affection for him.

A long while passed before she spoke, and her voice was low and sad, "I wish that you hadn't learned of this," she said, golden head bowed, "It was never my intention for you to find out anything."

"But I have Lady, and I would give you my heart if you would take it."

"I can't say that I don't have feelings for you." Buffy began softly, but steely determination was in her tone, "I'm not stupid enough to lie. But I _was_ stupid enough to allow my feelings to grow when they did. You are Arwen's future husband, she will be your Queen. You say you care for me, but you once said you loved her more than anything else in the world. How can I trust that you actually know what your heart wants?"

She looked hard at Aragorn, who was waiting for the penny to drop, "I'm not going to be someone who stabs her friend in the back, no matter what sweet little lines you feed me, I can't betray Arwen like that. I also couldn't do that to myself. I can't be anybody's plaything Aragorn, even yours. And as much as it hurts, you're going to be King. And Arwen will be your Queen and everyone will live happily ever after. I'm not going to be your cast aside lover, or your mistress. I have a duty to uphold and so do you."

But Aragorn could not accept her denials, not when she hurt both herself and him in the process, and crossing to her, he grasped her face in his, and kissed her passionately.

But again, she pulled away and tears were in her eyes, "Get a grip on yourself Aragorn and open your eyes! There is no us. There is no future for whatever us you've thought of. It was a dream Aragorn, nothing more."

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A/N: So? What do you think? Surprised? Opinions please! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!!!!

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Next Chapter: interesting times in store in the Golden Wood… denials… interruptions… a visit from the green-eyed monster… incidents…. And surprises…

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Elvish:

Haldir o Lórien. Henio aníron, boe ammen i dulu lîn. Boe ammen veriad lîn. - _Haldir of Lórien. We come here for help. We need your protection._

Melme vanimelda, námarië - my beautiful love, farewell

Mellryn - plural of 'mallorn'.

Dagnir - slayer

Mithrandir - Grey Pilgrim

Elessar - Elf-stone

Mellon - friend

Undómiel - Evenstar

Imladris - Rivendell

Gwanur - kinsman

Meldiren- my friend

Nín mellon - my friend

Meleth - love

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Cerin Amroth - 'Amroth's Mound' in Sindarin.

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Durin's Bane - the Balrog of Moria. Killed Durin VI in 1980.

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Elanor - a small golden flower that blooms in Lórien. Means 'sun-star'.

Morgoth - the Dark Lord of the First Age. A fallen Vala, he destroyed the Two Trees of Valinor, Laurelin and Telparion, and killed Fëanor's father, the King of the Noldor. He decimated the armies of the First Age until at last a host from Valinor came to Middle Earth, and waged war on him for forty years before he was thrown down. Is not dead but trapped in the Void.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Naugrim - 'stunted ones'. Elvish term for Dwarves.

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Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

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Varda - greatest of the Queens of the Valar. She is the maker of the stars, and the wife of Manwë.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
(¸.·'´(¸.·'´ '·.¸)' ·.¸)  
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·.¸ )  
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(.·´  
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	35. Misunderstood

**FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

**Summary:** BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

**Author's notes:** Thank you for all the reviews! Okay, you seem to have divided into three camps; the ones who want to lynch me for Buffy's rejection, the ones that understand why I did it, and the ones who haven't mentioned anything yet. Please note that I am working towards a wider plot and they can hardly realistically jump into each other's arms without working through fifty years worth of baggage.

Happy new years!!!!!!!!

**p.s - **for all who asked: - the White Tree is the symbol of the Gondorian royalty.

**_NOTICE:_** I have changed e-mail addresses. This was a change forced due to my last address suddenly not allowing me to send e-mails. Anybody trying to contact me, please take note. It is now '_ashadreamweaver at yahoo dot ie._'

_Review responses:_

_Anna -_ hi! And 'karma' is such an appropriate word! Ah yes, the White Tree, the symbol of the Gondorian royalty. I will let you guess the rest. Buffy is stronger, but she is also weaker. No gain without pain as I say. But Narya is at the heart of it. Buffy did kill the slayer killer, but no one said that Sauron sent only one….

_Black Phoenyx -_ and Joss Whedon did kill Buffy. Twice. Thanks for all your wonderful compliments! And no, I don't enjoy watching you suffer. At least not much.

_ChibiChibi -_ divine intervention, I'm sure. No, there was no other slayer called when she did. Even if that was still functioning in ME, her ability to activate a slayer was lost when she activated Kendra. It's Buffy's turn to freak and panic for a bit. Allow her it. Aragorn had his fifty years of wake-up time, and months of sulking time

_Dreamer Child -_ sorry, no Buffy the White. Buffy couldn't really take Gandalf's place. I don't think she would like the beard. And trust me; it is not going to take much to make Éowyn jealous. And you may have just written something that's prophetic…

_FallenStar2 -_ why, thank you! :) I am so glad that you got the little role reversal I set into the fic. I thought it was ironic. Apparently, a lot of people don't agree with me. And how did you know that Galadriel was going to be instrumental in fixing things? It is always the women who have to fix the men's messes. And the jealousy thing is going to be an interesting subplot for sure….

_Goldenshadows -_ thanks! No, she only heard some of what Legolas told her. Basically only enough to know that Elrond was the cause of one giant mess. Yes, there is a good chance that there will be someone crossing over in the sequel, but none of the three you mentioned. You are close though

_Haley -_ Of course, it will. But there will be plenty of fodder thrown to the readers to keep them alive! Ah yes, the poll about Boromir. Well, I have had my mind made up for a while now and let's just say that his departure should be an interesting event for all involved…

_Idrisien -_ okay, you did touch a nerve, but I always try to welcome constructive criticism. Only a flame will really get me furious. And Sauron and the Nazgûl have been around. Sauron returned to the newly completed Barad-dûr in 2942, but he and the Nine had been around, in a standoff with the White Council for centuries before this, called 'The Watchful Peace'. Gandalf knew it was Sauron in Dol Guldur by 2850, and told the White Council so, (which consisted of Elrond, Galadriel, three wizards, and Círdan for definite.) And Sauron actually never reforms. After his defeat at the hands of the Last Alliance, he was rendered bodiless and so he remained until his final defeat at the hands of Frodo and Sam. The Nazgûl's strength was linked to their master's and the Ring's, but when Sauron departed for Barad-dûr in 2942, he left three fully embodied Nazgûl behind in Dol Guldur to hold it, while the Witch-king had the rest in Minas Morgul.

So they were around and up to strength, about thirty years before Buffy's arrival in ME. That is why I used them so early in the fic. They do not travel openly until the hunt for the Ring, but they were around and tormenting Mirkwood for many decades before that. Also, they did not have to travel the main roads so could avoid suspicion. The Wise already knew that they were again abroad, but could not kill them as they could only fall with the One Ring. But they also never shared this info with the realms of Men, with whom they had little ties. The Rohirrim feared Galadriel and her realm, and only the chieftain of the Dúnedain would have been inclined to have been told by the Elves.

And Buffy is going to cause some changes, but I'm not going to wreck the story entirely to show them. It has to start off subtly, so that the gap gets wider for TTT and then wider still for RotK. Also, I copy lines from the books and movies because they are what the characters say. I may tweak them a little but I want to hold true to Tolkien's characters until the division between his events and mine become obvious. It has to happen gradually or else I get slated for not bothering to even look at canon. Also, Gandalf is a Maiar, he holds the 'flame imperishable', aka 'the secret fire' inside him. It is a feature of all the Maiar of Valinor, where Gandalf comes from, and gives them their powers and immortal life.

I say the Nazgûl are 'unkillable', because in many ways they are. They're not alive, but they're not dead. And Glorfindel foretold that the Witch-King would die 'not by the hand of man will he fall.' So Éowyn really fulfilled prophecy. She was a woman. But to kill a Nazgûl, and I mean really kill it, was tough work and it was a rare breed that could do it, so they generally were regarded as 'unkillable'. And yes, the prophecy could apply to Buffy, but I'm not stealing Éowyn's thunder. Besides, if I killed him off now, who would head the siege of Gondor in RotK?

Also, I am not about to minimise Buffy's abilities. They are going to come into play at Boromir's death, show even more in Rohan, and stun some people at Helms Deep. And as for what I have planned for the RotK, I can assure you that a lot of canon is going to be rewritten to achieve what I have planned. As to where the monsters I have added, some retreated into the dark places of the world after the First Age, and popped back up when I needed them. Buffy's blood has demonic DNA, and Sauron served Morgoth in the First Age so he knew how to make a few mega-monsters. Yes, everything has consequences and some that Buffy has not yet foreseen. And by Eru, this has turned into a thesis. So if you have any more criticisms or queries please feel free to e-mail me.

_Kit-Kat -_ Since I am dragging out the 'happy ending', I figured that I would be merciful. Cave trolls? Make them relatives and he might have more success! Yes, Éowyn is going to toss a few more sparks into a pool of dynamite.

_Kurt -_ definitely

_Lali-chan -_ I have actually never come across another Buffy/Aragorn pairing. However, the site 'Twisting the Hellmouth' is all about Buffy crossovers, including BtVS/LotR. The link is in my bio.

_Light Spinner -_ Aragorn is going to need intervention and some serious proving of himself to do that. And me, pulling something tricksy? Why, I never!

_Londaron of Erendaer -_ what thing?_Mari -_

_MiShA -_ Buffy is still the slayer, let's just say they upgraded her a little.

_Moonbunny77 -_ you were meant to be confused about her death. It is meant to be explained gradually. Even Buffy doesn't know how she is alive, but she is kinda used to that sort of thing.

_PrecariousPersonata -_ she is stronger and she is weaker. The consequences are gaining strength in one area, losing it in another. But that's not about to become obvious yet. Yes, the flower has something to with her return… and her future. And Buffy is always haunted by her past relationships; Angel took her heart, crushed it, nailed it to the floor and then did a jig on it, and then he let it heal for a while, ripped it out again, and stomped on it some more. And while this is her fourth life, she has only died three times. Only.

_Saint Maverick -_ Sorry, no affair with Éomer in the works. Though I do have an idea for another fic involving him and her…

_Sapph89 -_ thanks! I am so sorry about the Christmas you've been having. It must suck. I am glad that you enjoy the torment that I put Buffy and Aragorn through. It tends to get me death threats though. As it happens, I just changed e-mail addresses so see my notice at the top, as it is there. You have me curious now, you know…

_Shadow Master -_ glad you like it. I think that keeping her away would only have dragged things out. And yes, I can't just have her fall into his arms, now can I? The Narya question is resolved next chapter. Good ideas on what to do with it but I already have my own little devious plot.

_Shimmyontherooftops -_ the ray of hope has to come, but by an unlikely bearer.

_Star - (_claps) thanks! And don't worry, Buffy is still the slayer, but let's just say that her destiny has had a bit of a tweak by certain people. There is no other slayer in ME in this fic. Yes, the Legolas/Gimli friendship is fodder for so many humorous scenes; I scarcely know where to begin…

_Tsuki No Yasha -_ no, I don't hate you. But thank you. But yes, Aragorn's being all romantic, and now, it's Buffy's turn to be in denial. Thanks for reviewing!

_Vixen519 -_ that is hopefully explained in the first part of this chapter. Remember, Buffy's been burned, no incinerated, too many times before.

_Wizathogwarts_ - yes, the death thing is meant to be explained gradually. And Buffy's little chat with Legolas where she doesn't hear the full story only that 'Elrond intervened' is why she doesn't believe Aragorn. She knows that out of honour, Aragorn probably has broken it off with Arwen, but she thinks that he still loves her, and while he does care for Buffy, not as much as he does Arwen. That explain it?

_And major thanks to:_

_AJaKe, Annje, Athene Saile, BB, Becky, Danni, Draco's Slytherin Vampiress, Ellie, emerald sorceress, EverAfter-01, General Mac, GoldenRat, GredForgeLvr, Imp17, Little Red Rabbit, Lunawolf, luvbug6919, narmolanya, Night-Owl123, No longer a member, scruffybunny, Tara6, tenshikoneko03, Tomm Byrn, TroubleMakerQueen, Wild320,_

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE: MISUNDERSTOOD

"We dance round in a ring and suppose,  
But the Secret sits in the middle and knows."  
-- Robert Frost, "The Secret Sits"

But again, she pulled away and tears were in her eyes, "Get a grip on yourself Aragorn and open your eyes! There is no us. There is no future for whatever us you've thought of. It was a dream Aragorn, nothing more."

She saw the crestfallen expression on Aragorn's face as she forced the words out, but her determination did not waver. She had no doubt that he spoke true, that his and Arwen's troth was broken. But she also knew that it was Elrond's doing, playing to Aragorn's conscience and honour; the result of a father's desire to ensure his only daughter lived.

She knew he cared for her; but it was not the love he bore for Arwen, his precious Undómiel. She loved Aragorn with all her heart, but she could not stand to be forever second best in his eyes. He was too honourable to say so, she knew, but she could not tolerate living with him, even marrying him, when she knew that she had only been his second choice.

Not to mention she had no clue if Arwen had also had a sudden change of heart, and if Aragorn had broke it off with her while the elleth was still in love with him, then getting together with her best friend's ex-fiancé was not exactly Buffy's style.

And so she would have to give him up completely rather than suffer that constant gnawing doubt.

But even as she stepped away from him, she saw the fire of determination flare in those grey eyes, but even as he opened his mouth to say something, one of Galadriel's handmaidens entered the grove.

"Hirilen," she greeted Buffy, "Lady Galadriel has sent me to help you get ready for the celebrations." (My lady)

While the thought of the oncoming party didn't please her at all, she would have taken any opportunity to get out of this awkward situation.

"Yes, I'll come right away," she said, ignoring the mutinous expression of Aragorn. "Namárië Aragorn. And I hope that you regain your senses soon." (Farewell)

And with that, she hurried out of the grove, eager to put as much distance between herself and Aragorn as possible, and leaving the ranger to muse why the Valar always had to take their sport in the choices of his heart.

-----------

__

Galadriel's Halls, Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien.

"I still think this is taking cruel and unusual punishment to a whole new level." Buffy complained to her long time friend, "I mean a party? Where everyone's going to be asking, gee, how did you come back from the dead? Which I'd like to point out that I still don't know. And how were the accommodations in Moria? Not exactly my idea of a fun evening."

"I would have thought that you more than anyone would have understood the need for levity. The fellowship is beginning to feel the weight of their burden; would you begrudge them a chance to relax?" Galadriel pointed out pragmatically.

"When it's at my expense?" Buffy said, "Of course."

Galadriel looked at her knowingly, "And I presume that this reticence has nothing to do with your conversation with Aragorn earlier today? You have been unusually flustered since then."

"You miss nothing, do you?" Buffy said in exasperation, "This is really, really frustrating. Did everybody see this thing coming except me? I guess Elrond must have put in a good word for me. So lovely of him to poke his big nose into my private business. Of course, that's another story entirely. Where was I again? Oh. Right. My current problems. Exactly how many people know of Aragorn's new leanings?" she demanded. "Besides the whole of Lothlórien?"

"Why do you torment yourself so?" Galadriel asked gently, "You have longed for him for so long. Why do you always seek to hide in the dark places in the world?"

"Because there is nothing there that can harm me." Buffy answered, gazing moodily at the beautiful scenery that the Golden Wood effortlessly provided. "I've cried enough tears for him. I refuse to cry any more."

"Why must you think that it will end in despair?" the Lady asked, squeezing Buffy's arm in comfort, "Can you not see this as a chance for happiness?"

"To be second best to a man who's hopelessly in love with your granddaughter? I don't think so."

"And so you lie to him instead."

"I didn't lie. Dishonesty is the gift that keeps on giving, but I haven't been lying. He knows it's his duty to continue his line. Even if Arwen is sailing West. But I need more than just affection."

"How do you know that it is not love?" Galadriel asked, not judging, just trying to help the slayer work through her feelings.

"There's Love and then there's Lust." Buffy said grimly, "And Aragorn has lusted before, but never loved me as more than a friend. If he can't have Arwen, why not try me? It's not as if someone hasn't spilled the beans on my secret."

"It seems that love is in the air this season." Galadriel said, "Yours is not the first floundering relationship to take root here."

"Ha, not where I'm standing it isn't!" Buffy said bitterly, "And the man seems to have a habit of getting engaged in Lórien."

"I believe that his feelings are true, Buffy," Galadriel said, her blue eyes seeing deep into Buffy's soul.

"Okay, just so you know for future reference, you're supposed to be on my side in these situations. Not his. I've waited fifty years for him, Galadriel, and he didn't have a clue. And now just because he's spouting all this lovey-dovey nonsense, I'm supposed to jump into his arms and pretend the past never happened?"

"A love that is denied only grows stronger," Galadriel warned. "You can bury your heart behind all the layers of armour that you choose, but you cannot erase what you feel."

"I'm not about to jump into something that I know isn't going to last," the slayer said wearily, sinking into a seat beside the Lady of the Wood, "I had a vision quite a few years ago." she said quietly, with infinite sorrow, "It was of Aragorn and Arwen, …. And their child. Aragorn was King, Galadriel; I know that he's going to do it. But Arwen was his queen, not me. And it was their child that I saw, that I heard laugh. Whatever obstacles are between them at the moment; in the end, they will be together again. He still wears the Evenstar necklace, and they will marry, and have a son. I know this lies in the future. I'm not setting myself up for heartbreak that I know is coming."

"Foresight is both a blessing and a curse and should be wielded with the respect it deserves." Galadriel said softly, "But what it shows us is not always what will come to pass."

"But I know this will. If we win, it will happen. And I couldn't bear it if I gave in now."

"Buffy, you have to talk to him again." Galadriel urged, "Things have changed, you cannot be so tied to the past as to be afraid to grasp the future."

"What? No! No, no, no. I have to avoid him again." Buffy said, "I cannot stand it if I have to hear more of those lovely lies. After all, never put off until tomorrow what you can avoid forever. I don't have to see him and I won't. By the time we leave here, he just might be sane again."

Galadriel stood, and looked at her friend sadly, "Then I am sorry that your own folly blinds you to your road to happiness. Deceive yourself all you want Buffy, but please, do not deceive me."

And with those parting words, she left the room, leaving behind a perplexed and strangely annoyed slayer.

"I didn't even get to bitch at her!" Buffy swore, but the Elf Lady's words rang in her head long after the Lady herself was gone.

-----------

While her time spent with the slayer had been infuriating, Galadriel had been able to ascertain one thing of import.

Such as what Narya had done to Buffy.

It seemed that the slayer had forgotten about the Ring for the moment, for she had never once looked at it or alluded to it.

But it had changed her. Nenya had assured her of that.

Whatever the Valar had in store for the vampire slayer, they had just given her another weapon, which she did not even realise that she had.

The time of the Elves was nearly over, and the West beckoned to her, but she took comfort in the knowledge that even as the world of Men came to ascendance, the Elves would not be forgotten as long as the line of Elros continued on.

A bittersweet smile graced her lovely face as she thought on it, and that the Queen of Men would never let the Third Age sink into distant myth.

Not in the glorious kingdom they would forge.

-----------

Later that day, as she knew he would, Elrond opened a link between them. She had spoken to Arwen long enough to know that he had seen Buffy die and she knew that once her luminous granddaughter had passed on the extraordinary tale of her survival, he would wish to know more.

"How could this be? How could she survive? A mortal?" he asked.

"The slayer is a species unto herself. But I believe that there were loftier hands than ours in this miracle. Varda herself spoke to me, Eärendilion." she answered, a bout of homesickness taking her as she thought on that voice from three ages past.

"Varda?" he replied, the shock in his voice audible, "Elbereth herself?! They are meddling with the fates of the peoples of Middle Earth once more?"

"As with every war that heralds the ending of an age. We already know that they do not want Sauron to win. Perhaps they intervene to make up for Saruman's betrayal." she said, deep in thought.

"But why Buffy? Why choose her over Gandalf?" Elrond mused, unable to figure out the logic behind the decision, "She is strong. However, Gandalf is one of the Istari, one of the Maiar. His flame could have been rejuvenated."

"Who can say what the Valar have decided?" Galadriel said, "It was not easy even when the Eldar still dwelt in Aman. How much harder would it be to know their thoughts when seven thousand years have passed since the darkening of Valinor?"

"Then we must place our trust in the fellowship and hope that 'tis the Valar's will that they should succeed."

"If they should stay together long enough to achieve anything," Galadriel warned, "I see trouble in their future. I fear the fellowship shall be torn asunder."

Elrond was silent for a long while, "Will they survive?" he asked his austere mother-in-law.

"Even the wisest cannot say," she answered, "But they are stronger than you think and many have survived worse."

"What have you seen before them?"

"The Mirror shows too many things to be certain, but I think the man of Gondor shall be the first to fall to the Ring. His father, in his quest for power, has levelled an unthinkable burden on him. His reason, his history of the lore, wars with his desire to obey his father. Nevertheless, all is not yet lost. There is still hope."

"I am told that 'tis only a fool's hope," Elrond said quietly.

"Then we are all fools, for we have none other," Galadriel answered solemnly, and silence fell between them.

-----------

Though her heart was heavy with the burden of war, Galadriel found that Arwen's simple request lifted her heart into a state of playfulness, and she began to harbour hope that mayhap both hers and Thranduil's wishes would yet come to pass.

"Thranduilion," she greeted the solitary prince, alone in a flet as he prepared for the feast.

He bowed, "My lady," but she laughed at his courtly manner.

"I bring a letter to you, from my granddaughter. She charged me with making sure it passed into no other hands but yours." She handed over the thick letter to the puzzled prince, and then she smiled at him reassuringly, "Do not be afraid to pursue your heart's desire, Legolas," she said, "You may find that it is more attainable than you think."

And with that, she left him to peruse the letter she had dutifully given to him.

Scarcely knowing what to make of this latest event, Legolas stared at the folded parchment for a moment before slowly opening it.

Nín ernil taur, (my forest prince)

Legolas, I know that I am forward in writing this letter, but I hope that our long friendship will weigh in my favour and you will not look upon me as imprudent. I cannot say how sorrowed I was not to be able to give you a proper farewell, and so I hope to remedy a few oversights through this letter, as I did not have the opportunity to do so in person.

Nín Greenleaf, I have much to tell you but first I think it is time to tell you, my dear friend of many years, my choice. I have chosen to remain one of the Eldar. I chose an immortal life. I shall not take the road of my father's brother.

By now, I hope that Aragorn has ceased to be stubborn and told you that our troth has been broken. If he has not, then let it be known that I set him free because my heart was no longer his, and never was in full. It was an infatuation of my youth, when the tale of Lúthien and Beren enchanted us. But time rendered that infatuation into something much less than what it first was, and I knew that it was time for Aragorn and I to part, for our happiness could no longer be assured by the other.

But know I must reveal a secret of my heart, and forgive me if I shock you dear Legolas, but this must be said. I have gifted my heart to another, though I can only guess at how he feels in return. Though he is gentle, I know all too well that he possesses his father's mercurial temper in full, though tempered with his mother's patience. He has caught my eye for some time, but while I was bound to Aragorn, I could not act nor even think upon it with honour.

Love is blossoming in my heart for him, deeper than it ever has for any not of my kin, and so I write to you now, to tell you whom he is, and to ask you how he feels in turn.

Legolas, the one who has captured my heart is you, and I much desire to know how you feel, and if I have a chance with you. But I could not speak to you before you departed with your company, and so I entrusted this letter to my daernaneth to pass to you should you come near the Golden Wood.

I would say more, but I feel that this is a matter for when we next meet in person. There are so many things that I wish to say that cannot be put on paper. May your journey be safe so that you come back to me unscathed. And may the grace of the Valar go with you under stars, moon and sun.

Hopefully yours,

Arwen Undómiel.

For many minutes, the woodland prince gaped at the letters written in Arwen's flowing hand. And then with the most welcome words sinking in, a smile blossomed across his face.

It seemed that true love did indeed conquer all obstacles, even if it was not known that they were even there. And that his heart's desire had finally hearkened to him.

His heart was so light and filled with love that he scarcely knew how to react, Undómiel loved him back!

He could only hope that he would indeed see her again, after this war had ended. He wanted that very much indeed.

-----------

__

Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien. Evening.

The grand feast was held that eve, if eve it was in the timeless glow of Lórien, under the dappled canopy of golden leaves. The Elves danced and laughed and made merry; those so sombre in their charges now showing themselves as fey as their Mirkwood cousins as they revelled in the music, and the feasting, and the celebrations.

Though the night was young, the feast was already accounted a rousing success. If an Elven feast could charm a compliment out of a Dwarf, then it would go down as a rarity in the eyes of any kindred.

Indeed, the evening would have been most perfect if the guests of honour, the Fellowship of the Ring, had not been so distracted.

Buffy and Aragorn studiously avoided each other, both smarting from wounds inflicted by past and present misunderstandings; Boromir of Gondor seemed to have had some sort of epiphany as he darkly glowered at Aragorn; while Gimli chastised a strangely glowing Legolas for his inattention to their usual battle of insults and wits. Only the hobbits seemed truly merry at the party; for they had found that the larders of Lórien were just as richly stocked as those of Imladris.

All in all, it lent a slightly disquieted atmosphere to the whole affair.

------

While Aragorn had stomached the hurt at Buffy's rejection, he had understood it and accepted it as only one long familiar with the nuances of Buffy's character could do.

From the hints that had been dropped, Buffy had pined fruitlessly over him for nearly fifty years, and from some hints dropped by Galadriel, he had a vague idea that someone had been so cruel and callous as to wound her heart deeply in the past. So he understood her reluctance, but did not mean that it did not hurt.

In truth, he realised after mulling it over despondently for many hours, what else could he have expected from his ever stubborn slayer? Ever the first to fight and the last to yield, she could out stubborn the twins, and even Elrond himself at times, - no mean feat by anyone's standards.

Ever wilful, she would not make things easy for him. He already sensed that she was going to fight him every step of the way, and in a perverse way, he found he was almost looking forward to their battle of hearts and wiles. If Buffy did not believe his love true and tender, then he would just have to make her believe.

He would chase her; woo her, show her how much she meant to him, how dearly she was valued and cherished, and hopefully, he would win her.

But if it took from now until the end of Arda, he would keep trying and as he sent a calculating, devious little smirk in the direction of the skittish slayer, he would see how long Buffy could hold out against her own heart, and his.

He did not think on failure, for he honestly could not imagine his future if he did not succeed.

--------

"I am almost surprised to see you here, Buffy." Haldir said, joining her in her little staked out corner of the glade.

"You were expecting somebody else?" Buffy asked sarcastically, "Didn't you hear? I'm the biggest fodder this place has seen for the gossip mill in the last five years at least."

"As usual, you are most enchanting," he drawled, "All you have to do to prove yourself as ill-tempered as a sulking bear is to start skewering some people. But then again, mayhap your words and glares do that enough."

"They forced me to be here, they can put up with it," Buffy grumped, "It's not like it's intentional."

Haldir just smirked at her dark glower, "Is that so Lady? And here I thought you just enjoyed running circles around people, glowering at them so balefully."

"Shut up, Haldir," she snapped at his way too merry tone, "I am so not in the mood for dealing with this right now."

"Then I shall leave you to your glaring," Haldir said, bowing gallantly, "May your temper be sweetened ere we meet again."

"Have a good time. Somebody should. And lay off the insults, okay?" Buffy said as he left her to her solitude.

It was not to last long.

-----------

From across the room Boromir had watched the returned slayer carefully as the evening wore on. He thought her elegant, as her race befit, but wild as her nature demanded, - for Lórien had amply provided him with information on what exactly a 'dagnir' was. Elegant but wild was a gross understatement to many here who had been on the receiving end of her steel.

Her wit and vivacity seemed dimmed this eve, but he had seen and heard enough in the Golden Wood to be able to descry the problem.

Less lore-steeped than his brother Faramir, Boromir nonetheless had had a steward's education, and while he admittedly preferred the battlefield to the library, he was not ignorant of his history, especially that of Gondor.

His father had charged him to bring the One Ring to Gondor at all costs, no matter that his reason warred with that decision. But he had forsaken his father's decree so far by helping to send the Ring and its bearer on its way to Mount Doom, to throw down Sauron once and for all.

He knew the dangers and the risks, he had heard the insidious whispers of the Ring, forever calling out to any who could hear it and whom it could ensnare. But surrounded by the wisdom and lore of ancient Imladris he had seen the prudence of destroying it rather than using it. 'Twas a pity that it was certain that his father would not feel the same.

When Denethor had had too much to drink, or his tongue was loosened some, he had oft muttered darkly against the 'usurper' that he felt sure that Gandalf the Grey was grooming to supplant him. Faramir and Boromir had heard much of this ill-directed malice through the years, had heard how Denethor would not give up the rule of Gondor to any save his favoured son, and even then, only in death.

Boromir was of two minds about Aragorn's claim to his lands, but he knew that his father would not even stop to consider the consequences before he made a move to get rid of the ranger who would be king. He knew not what methods to which his father would resort to get rid of his rival, but he feared what could happen. To everybody involved.

But he was not blind to the undercurrent that ran between Buffy and Aragorn; and Merry and Pippin had gossiped freely when he raised the subject. To the minds of the majority of Lothlórien, it seemed that Buffy was to be Aragorn's lady, if she would take him. Which she had not.

That meant that if Gandalf's plans involving Aragorn at last came to fruition, there was a good chance that this woman would be Boromir's new queen. And if she was rumoured to be almost certainly engaged to the ranger, then she had to have influence over him.

He had heard many black tales from his father about 'Eliza' of the Gondorian army, but they had never been matched by the men who had served with her, most of whom were retired or dead now. One of the Dúnedain she had said, for she aged like one, and obvious that Denethor hated her with a passion for some reason.

It would not help Aragorn's fortunes with the Steward of Gondor in the slightest.

But this revelation on his part, that it would not only be Aragorn of the fellowship to ascend to a throne, had brought to mind some counsel of Faramir's, before he had left Osgiliath on his journey to the Council of Elrond.

Faramir had said that two would come unforeseen to the guarded city by roads long lost and because of this, they would change Gondor's fortunes forever. He had not understood it at the time, but he felt that he was beginning to now.

But whatever his feelings, honour compelled him to warn Buffy of his father's machinations ere she fell victim to them. No such warning would be given to Aragorn. If he wished to be King, he would have to prove himself more than he had before Boromir would ever bend his knee to him.

"Lady Buffy," he said gallantly, taking her hand and kissing it formally, eyes locked on Aragorn's somewhat angry expression at his move. It was subtle, but it was definitely jealousy. So the rumours were indeed true.

The lady in question snatched her hand back and glared at Boromir balefully, "Why thank you for that Boromir, it was either incredibly annoying or incredibly embarrassing, I'm not sure which. When I've decided, you can guarantee the appropriate revenge in the near future."

And now to see if Buffy held any affection towards Aragorn…

"Forgive me, Buffy, but it was a whim," he said apologetically, mollifying her slightly, "The ladies of Gondor like the practice very much, and as you were once one, I thought you might not be adverse to my charms."

"Gee, sounds like someone's ego needs deflating." Buffy said, wondering what had come over Boromir, it couldn't be Denethor - the next generation, could it?

"You mock the son of the Steward of Gondor?" he said playfully, surprising Buffy with his light-heartedness, "Or have you set your sights on someone higher? 'Tis not only my charms that makes me so popular with the ladies."

"Oh, yeah, an oversized ego would have something to do with it." Buffy said, "Did Gimli or Legolas or Haldir put you up to this? 'Cos it isn't funny."

"What?" Boromir asked, "Can you not accept any attentions from any man besides your ranger?"

Her eyes widened, and he knew that he had guessed right. "Aragorn is a good man in his fashion, I suppose, but would you not settle for someone else?"

An infinite sadness came into her eyes then and at the hurt he saw there, he dropped the charade. "Forgive me, Buffy, but I had to ascertain whether there was any affection between you and Aragorn ere I started such a delicate conversation."

"So you're just winding me up, now?" Buffy asked, feeling a sharp snap of annoyance at the so called jest, "What fun."

"No," he said earnestly, "But I wish to talk to you of Gondor, and of my father, I would not do so except that I believe you need to know if only to keep Aragorn from walking into a trap."

That caught her attention, "What do you mean?"

"You have heard of my brother Faramir?" he asked, and she nodded, "Well, he has foresight at times, especially in his dreams. Keen is his sight and some say that he is akin to the Númenórean lords of old, who could penetrate the minds of others. He gave me some sage words of counsel ere I left for Imladris, though I did not understand their meaning until recently. You see, I believe that he speaks of you and Aragorn. He said that two strangers would come. You are the only strangers whose coming could signal importance, - and good, - to Gondor so... I knew."

She was silent for a moment, "Why me?"

"Because, to whatever end, your fate is tied with Aragorn's. Some say that if Sauron loses this war, you will be the new Queen."

The slayer looked pained at his words, "That is not my fate, but another's," she said, "But I have been charged with Aragorn's protection until he gets his throne. So spill it, buddy."

"But you love him, and he seems to care for you," Boromir said in puzzlement.

She looked at him strangely, "Stop being insightful. It's creepy. Where did you get that hint?"

"The hobbits, everyone." he replied.

"I am so going to kick their ass." she growled, "Okay, come on, what's the deal with this 'delicate' conversation?"

"It relates to my father," Boromir began, his expression grave, "He knows of Aragorn's existence. He has for some time. He thinks that this is a plot of Gandalf's to supplant him, and place Aragorn on the throne. I fear what lengths he may go to to ensure that Aragorn never gets the chance."

"I'm not surprised," she said honestly, "To be blunt Boromir; your father is an ass. And he has already tried to kill Aragorn once before. I personally broke his arm. If he decides to do so again, I'll break his neck."

Boromir blinked, "I love my father but I cannot condone his actions, or you breaking his neck."

"We're in the middle of a war," she said grimly, "Sometimes we gotta do what we gotta do. No matter whose butt it is that you have to kick. What does Denethor have up his little sleeve? And don't pull any punches; I am more than aware of his total jerkiness."

And so Boromir, feeling that he could trust this woman, this warrior, confided in her about the state of Gondor and the nuances of Denethor's rule and his deep-seated hatred of Aragorn and 'Thorongil'. And also of his secret in the Tower of Ecthelion and his desire for the One Ring.

When he had finished, she was quiet for a moment, but then she looked up and the intensity of her gaze caught him. It was almost as though a fire sparked behind those hazel orbs.

"Boromir, listen to me, forget your father's demands. The Ring will bring Gondor nothing but pain and probably mass destruction. You follow his little order and you are very likely to die. You are a better man than Denethor could ever be. Prove it. If the Ring… bothers you, I'll try to help, but please," she pleaded, placing a hand on his, "Don't give into it. Whatever it tries to tempt you with. Don't let your own loyalty be the thing that gets you in the end. Promise?"

"I shall do my best, Buffy," he said honestly, "But I cannot guarantee anything."

"Story of my life." she replied, and then they moved on to lighter topics, the wariness between them now finally dispelled and they laughed and talked as they started to build a friendship.

Across the room, Aragorn seethed with jealousy as he watched Buffy laugh and smile at Boromir in a way that she now refused to do with him. What in Arda did he have to do to gain her attention if she so easily forgot his declaration of love so lately done?

And how in Arda was he going to work with Boromir when he felt like throttling him?

-----------

But Buffy was not oblivious to Aragorn's unnerving, lingering stares, and while Boromir was an amusing and intelligent person to have a conversation with, she was acutely aware of the feel of grey eyes boring into her back.

And so, she tried to ignore it and when that failed, she was determined not to show how rattled it was making her, and so when someone handed her a glass of wine, she gratefully took it.

It was to the start of four glasses of potent Elvish wine.

And it was a well known fact that Buffy and alcohol of any sort did not mix.

And unfortunately, she was not the only one to overindulge in wine that eve. A certain ranger did so too.

And all of the above spelt Trouble.

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Alone in the grove beneath her usual flet in Lothlórien, pleasantly drunk and totally oblivious to the fact that she was no longer alone, Buffy lay stretched out on the green grass under the boughs of the mallorn tree, lolling in a peaceful half-doze.

Even though her senses were keen, she did not hear the near silent footfalls of the Elvish trained but inebriated ranger and she did not notice his presence until she felt arms slide around her waist.

Thinking it to be a dream, she leaned back into the embrace that she had longed for on many more nights than this one. "Is this a dream?" she whispered as she felt a soft kiss pressed against her neck, against Angel's scar. And as she felt that long unwanted mark, she thought that she saw Angel again and heard herself speaking. '_I just know that when you're around, whether I see you or not, I feel you. Inside. And it throws me._'

Dimly, from underneath the alcohol induced haze of her brain, she knew that this was a way to tell her that this really was Aragorn. And no dream.

But she could not find the strength to push him away again, and by Eru, she was trying to do the noble thing; did she not deserve one night to remember? And so she let the cloud of denial stay where it was uncontested and let herself feel.

After a few blissful minutes of soft kisses and the comforting feel of his broad frame against hers, she spoke dreamily, her tone loosened and lively, "So, Strider, how well do you think you really know me?" she asked playfully, resting her hands on the pair of arms around her waist.

"I know that I would love to start seeing you again. I wish you could trust me enough to tell me whatever it is that you are afraid of." Aragorn's deep voice whispered in her ear, and she squirmed.

"I can't," she said, but he turned her around in his arms, and caressed her cheek with one calloused hand.

"Why do you fear me?" he said, the scent of wine strong on his breath.

She smiled bittersweetly, oblivious to her normal caution, "Because you'll break my heart, you naughty boy, and then it will all be bad and awkward and I don't want to hurt again. Angel said he loved me, you know," she rambled, "Then he left me. And Parker used me. And Riley wanted more than I could ever give. And Spike… well he was a honey in the sack but also kind of a vampire. So, again, bad. I seem to have a thing for the brooding type you know, --"

She was cut off by the feel of gentle lips on hers and with a startled sigh; she met him in a kiss. It was soft and loving, and her mouth was tenderly assaulted by his, and almost involuntarily, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

She blinked as her head felt light, but ignored it. And when the kiss ended, she leaned her head against Aragorn's shoulder.

He sighed, "Why must you torment us both?" he said, his pain unfettered and lost in a bottle of Dorwinion, "Why must I suffer so?"

Long years of anger welled up inside her, for once not tempered by reason, and she pushed away from him, and stumbling, landed on her behind on the ground, "You think you had it bad?! Do you?! Curse you! You know nothing! What do you know of suffering?!" she cried, "You're the one who has been in the land of Arwen for the last sixty years! What do you know of suffering?! You never even noticed me!"

And then, to her horror, she burst into tears.

At once, strong, compassionate arms encircled her, and her head was brought to rest against the soft fabric of his tunic, which quickly dampened under her tears. "Shhh…" he crooned, rocking her softly, and she was too weary and heart-sore for even her pride to push him away.

And so she cried out her pain to him, and he just shushed her soothingly, rubbing her back and resting his head on hers.

After a while, he took another glance at her bowed head and frowned. Lifting her face up so that they could meet eyes, he looked sternly, at least as sternly as he could while wobbling slightly, at her wearied countenance. "When was the last time you slept?"

Buffy opened her mouth to answer but quickly closed it again, as she racked her muddled brain, trying to puzzle out the timeless days of Lórien, "I can't remember," she finally admitted. "I think it was when I woke up."

Sighing, and relieved to have an excuse to lay his spinning head down, Aragorn removed his wet tunic to use for a pillow, and then his boots, and lay back against the grass and gently pulled her with him, "Let us rest then, meleth." he said with a yawn.

Buffy nodded drowsily, and lay her sleepy head against his chest, feeling him place a kiss on her hair.

Drowsy from drink, unaware of their own actions, slayer and ranger fell asleep together under the watchful boughs of Lórien.

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"No dream is ever just a dream."

– Eyes Wide Shut

She woke up to the feeling of a heavy warmth draped around her waist, and the surface on which her head lay was warm and moved with every breath, but still dozing, the sensations did not register with her yet.

Revelling in the feeling of warmth and comfort, and grimacing at the throbbing pain in her head, the vampire slayer wilfully lay for many minutes in the world between sleeping and waking.

But her blissful reverie was not to last long.

As they lay there, relaxed and open for the most part, she felt something flare that she had thought that she had long since buried. With all the glee of a prisoner released after a long captivity, it soared through her, battering her carefully built walls and causing her to gasp in abrupt shock.

The bond that she had so long denied tried to overtake her, to settle irreversibly within her heart but she fought it with all her might, and just managed to push it back.

Gasping, she tried to sit up and was constricted by a heavy arm around her waist, trapping her against someone's larger frame. Eyes snapping open in horror and shock, she looked at the new mess she had somehow managed to land herself into.

All thoughts of her atrocious hangover gone from her mind, she struggled to comprehend that not only was she wrapped in Aragorn's arms, using him as a pillow but somehow the buttons on the side of her dress were unbuttoned and he was somehow naked from the waist up, wearing only breeches. Could it get any more intimate?

Her mind informed her that oh yes it could and proceeded to take her thoughts down a naughtier turn but she couldn't even acknowledge them, only sit there, half propped up, trapped by Aragorn's arm and staring at the mess before her after an absolute blanking of her mind.

They couldn't have, she thought in abject horror when her brain unfroze.

They absolutely couldn't have!

She couldn't have!

With Aragorn!

Arwen's ex-fiancé!

There were not enough curses in the world to sum up this disaster, she thought fiercely as she struggled to wrap her mind around the concept.

She tried to reassure herself that this was all some horrible nightmare, "Oh, no, it's okay. He's not real." She reached out to touch him, and snatched her hand back as if burned when she encountered real, warm skin, "Seems real. Very real…." she whispered, and then she groaned, "I know life isn't fair but this sucks!" she whispered violently. "How could this happen to me?!"

How could she have done the hanky panky with Aragorn? Her close friend's boyfriend? What had she been thinking? Had she been thinking? 'Cos really, looking at it from the morning after perspective, with all these lovely discarded clothes and whats nots, it looked very, very bad. Colossally bad even.

She wracked her brain trying to remember what happened last night, but then again she was never much good beyond 'fire bad, tree pretty' when she got drunk. Which judging by the hangover, she had done awesomely.

Way to screw up everything Buffy, she congratulated herself. Now you're a back-stabbing friend betrayer slutty girl. Way to go me!

Unable to bear being beside him any longer, and furious that she couldn't even remember anything to make the mess even somewhat bearable.

Carefully shifting Aragorn's arms, she slithered out of his grasp, and deciding to abandon her way too close for comfort flet, she grabbed a change of clothes and ran into the woods, where she could hopefully freak in privacy and then figure out what the hell she was going to do now.

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Less than an hour after Buffy's panicked flight, Aragorn woke up. Rolling over, he absently patted the ground beside him and then he snapped awake when he felt grass tickle his bare flesh.

Bolting into a sitting position, he surveyed the scene. Him, half naked, a dent in the grass beside him and the scent of perfume on his tunic.

Frantically trying to piece together what happened, his eyes widened when he remembered vaguely falling asleep with Buffy. Who was not there now.

While he could not make out much of the previous night, he remembered enough to know that she had been upset. And she was gone.

So he surveyed the scene from her perspective; he knew that Buffy could not hold her ale well after a memorable scene with the twins and an innkeeper from Bree. Him, half-naked, in the grass below her flet, waking up in the morning.

Cursing violently, he figured out exactly what conclusion she was going to jump to and even the goriest invectives of the Dwarves did little to ease his temper.

Scrambling up, he stumbled into his tunic and boots, and took off for the halls of Galadriel, where he hoped to find either the slayer or someone who knew where she was.

Before their own mistakes came tumbling down around him and she blasted him as a cur, and one night's misfortune ruined any hope of a relationship between them.

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Galadriel's fingers closed around the band of gold, "Are you sure you wish to entrust this to me Buffy?" she asked softly, staring at the dulled fire of Narya.

"It was what Gandalf told me to do," Buffy answered sadly, "He said that it was to go to you if anything happened to him."

"But you know that I already bear Nenya." Galadriel said, "I risk much taking Narya, for I cannot keep it. I am a ring-bearer already, and I cannot bear two. This puts the safety of both Nenya and Narya at risk."

She looked earnestly at Buffy, "Mellon, Narya I would give you, to feed the fire of your soul, and kindle the hearts of those you lead to war. Will you not take it and guard it, with the times being so dark?"

"I think that I've already proven I'm not the right person for the job," Buffy said firmly, "I mean, I died on the job once already. It's an Elven Ring. Give it to an Elf. I'm sure that you could always give it to Círdan."

And so the slayer left Galadriel holding Narya and staring with unseeing eyes at the shimmering golden flame of a link that stretched between Buffy, and the dulled Narya, whose power was now not tied to itself, but to another.

Unbidden the words came from her lip, "You cannot escape your destiny..."

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**A/N:** Well? Feedback wanted! Did I toss you a bone or what?! Please **READ** and **REVIEW**!!!

Well? Feedback wanted! Did I toss you a bone or what?! Please and !!!**__**

**_NOTICE:_** I have changed e-mail addresses. This was a change forced due to my last address suddenly not allowing me to send e-mails. Anybody trying to contact me, please take note. It is now '_ashadreamweaver at yahoo dot ie.'_

_Next Chapter:_ Evasion… revelations… requests…. And farewells…

_Elvish:_

Undómiel - Evenstar

Elleth - Elf-maiden

hirilen - my lady

Namárië - farewell

Eärendilion - son of Eärendil

Nín ernil taur - my forest prince

Daernaneth - grandmother

Imladris - Rivendell

Dagnir - slayer

Thorongil - Eagle of the Star

Mellon - friend

Meleth - love

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_Caras Galadhon - _City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

_Círdan -_ also called 'the Shipwright'. Lord of the Grey Havens. The only Elf with a beard.

_Eärendil -_ Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth.

_Istari -_ the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

_Lúthien -_ Daughter of King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia. Born in the First Age. Married a mortal man and came back from the dead as a mortal after convincing Mandos with a song to release her and her love, Beren. Considered the most beautiful Elf-maid to walk Arda. Elrond's foremother.

_Moria - '_The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

_Narya - _the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

_Nenya -_ The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

_Osgiliath -_ Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

_The guarded city -_ Minas Tirith. The city was once called 'Minis Anor' - 'Tower of the Sun' but it's name was changed when both Minas Ithil and Osgiliath fell.

_Thorongil - '_eagle of the star'. Aragorn's alias when he served as an officer to Ecthelion II, Steward of Gondor and when he rode with the Rohirrim under King Thengel.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	36. Evasion

FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Thanks for all the reviews! I balefully welcome 2005, as it brings with it major exams, college choices, oral exams and of course, the end of this fic.

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NOTICE: I have changed e-mail addresses. This was a change forced due to my last address not allowing me to send e-mails. Anybody trying to contact me, please take note. It is now _'ashadreamweaver at yahoo dot ie.'_

: I have changed e-mail addresses. This was a change forced due to my last address not allowing me to send e-mails. Anybody trying to contact me, please take note. It is now ****

P.S - _QUESTION_!!!! I have the basic outline for the sequel but I would like some reader input. What would you like to see happen in the sequel, within reason? It will take place around FA 1 or 2. I cannot promise that I will take any of the suggestions on board, but if they have merit, I just might use them. I've got my outline about half-way done and I'm trying to think of some spectacular endings. Clue: a war will be involved.

- !!!! I have the basic outline for the sequel but I would like some reader input. What would you like to see happen in the sequel, within reason? It will take place around FA 1 or 2. I cannot promise that I will take any of the suggestions on board, but if they have merit, I just might use them. I've got my outline about half-way done and I'm trying to think of some spectacular endings. Clue: a war will be involved.****

P.P.S - **_URGENT_**!!! Is anyone else with a yahoo e-mail account having trouble sending e-mails? Every time I hit the 'compose' button, the space where you're supposed to type your message doesn't appear and I can't seem to fix it. Do any of you have the same problem, or even better know how to fix it? Please say so in a review or e-mail me if you know the answer!

- !!! Is anyone else with a yahoo e-mail account having trouble sending e-mails? Every time I hit the 'compose' button, the space where you're supposed to type your message doesn't appear and I can't seem to fix it. Do any of you have the same problem, or even better know how to fix it? Please say so in a review or e-mail me if you know the answer!__

Review responses:

Alexceasar - not lately. Glad to see that you like my writing style and my plotline! Yay!

Allen Pitt - when all those bad Maiar jumped off the bandwagon, well the Valar did not like it so much. But I think it was Saruman's own bitterness that destroyed him and that Gandalf broke his staff and cast him out, which meant out of Valinor and the Valar's favour. They probably withdrew whatever power they gave him. Sauron went evil when Morgoth, a fallen vala but the strongest of them all, was the current Dark Lord, so doubtlessly Morgoth, who is still not dead, found some way of sustaining them. A darker power so to speak. Morgoth was stronger than Manwë. And the Balrogs were Maiar twisted and made into Balrogs by Morgoth. Yes, I always thought that Éomer and Buffy would go well together, if Rohan survived them, that is. I am actually thinking of doing a fic with that pairing,…. If I ever have time…

Anna - thanks! Yes, the Buffy/Aragorn/Éowyn triangle seems to be heading for fireworks at the very least. And no, you did not misread the bit about Narya. And Saruman did not create the slayer killer, Sauron did.

Anna Rossini - I like to try keep Buffy young, but the harder she's pushed, as she will be in later chapters, she's going to be forced what she never wanted to be.

Black Phoenyx - I will just have to start shocking you then. Pity I already pulled the death card…

Catgirl Elf Princess - thanks!! Yes, you can continue 'A light' if you wish. I tried to e-mail you but my account is not letting me send e-mail again.

CodeNameTargeter - welcome! I know about the spelling errors. It is nearly impossible to catch them all. And I always keep the translations in for everything for the benefit of any new readers or ones coming back to the story.

Dreamer Child - you babble quite well. Yes, Aragorn thinks of it as a challenge. He is going forward, knowing that he might provoke a slayer into murdering him. I would call that a challenge. I am glad you find B and A's role reversal ironic! That's what I had in mind when I was writing it! Payback all round.

FallenStar2 - thanks! I thought it was time we heard from Arwen again. About the Narya belonging with Buffy thingy… you're not too far off there at all… And yes, it was Varda that helped save Buffy. And actually no, it wouldn't beat out her draw to the One Ring. However, you are right, Buffy would be given the choice to sail West if she was a Ringbearer. And yes, Gandalf has passage West guaranteed since he first arrived in ME. And how prophetic of you? How did you know that Arwen would have to beat some more sense into him?

GoldenRat - I think that it is an ingrained response.

Haley - I never said I was getting rid of Boromir….

Imp17 - feel free.

Kit-Kat - thanks! And it's not _all_ angst! And no, it will not last forever. We will be diving into battles soon. And I think that all that time spent with the Elves has made her wiser, but I like to think of her as perpetually young spirited. Ah, yes, Sean Bean… an excellent choice for Boromir… And I actually had forgotten about the Riley conversation, so coincidence!

- thanks! And it's not angst! And no, it will not last forever. We will be diving into battles soon. And I think that all that time spent with the Elves has made her wiser, but I like to think of her as perpetually young spirited. Ah, yes, Sean Bean… an excellent choice for Boromir… And I actually had forgotten about the Riley conversation, so coincidence!

Kurt - Not that type of connection. Their life forces aren't joined.

Light Spinner - Narya and Varda.

Londaron of Erendaer - no connection save similarity. Perhaps another story…

Lunawolf - Galadriel is saying a lot things she shouldn't be saying.

Maethoriell Uini Tawar - this site took down my announcement regarding 'History Repeats Itself'. I am getting another author to continue it, from a list which is currently short listed to three authors. Hopefully, HRI should be up and running in the new year.

Mari - okay, how come all my reviewers are becoming prophetic! I had better not be getting predictable! Make Elrond give Vilya to Aragorn? Never going to happen. And how did you know that the sequel was going to be painful? Yes, Buffy has Aragorn pitted against each other. May the most mule-headed win. Because Buffy's destiny changed when she died, weird things are happening because she is no longer just Aragorn's bodyguard but of near equal or equal weight with him. I was watching RotK extended too! And it just gave me _so_ many ideas! But no, I want Denethor dead. Not tied up.

- okay, how come all my reviewers are becoming prophetic! I had better not be getting predictable! Make Elrond give Vilya to Aragorn? Never going to happen. And how did you know that the sequel was going to be painful? Yes, Buffy has Aragorn pitted against each other. May the most mule-headed win. Because Buffy's destiny changed when she died, weird things are happening because she is no longer just Aragorn's bodyguard but of near equal or equal weight with him. I was watching RotK extended too! And it just gave me many ideas! But no, I want Denethor dead. Not tied up.

Pamie884 - that's a question a lot of people want to know. And you will not get the answer until chapter 38.

PrecariousPersonata - yeah, you'll get it later on. It is meant to be ambiguous. And remember, Angel was the first in line. First love, first heartbreak. Which he did like three times. And as for the letter, Arwen showing up in person really wasn't an option so I had to do something! And Aragorn's jealousy is going to be a recurring theme… but Buffy has a part to play in Boromir's future…

Saint Maverick - yesss.. I am Irish. So what? Why the squealing?

Sparky24 - thanks! Not her life cycle but you are right about the ring's next bearer. Actually, I never said whether Boromir was dying for real or not.

Star - Yes, Aragorn keeps putting his foot in it. I'm glad you like Boromir! And yes, the Ring of Fire and the connection. Most of the explanation is in chapter 37 so you will have to wait for that.

Tara6 - (smiles mysteriously) Maybe…

Tiamante Salazar Tameran - Buffy believed that she slept with Aragorn. Not literally. Also, it's proven fact that Buffy can't hold alcohol. Remember BtVS season four 'Beer Bad.'

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And major thanks to:

_Annje, Batgirl Beyond, Becky, BuffyandDracoLover, cold-blooded-angel, darkmistress013, Draco's Slytherin Vampiress, fairieangel, General Mac, Night-Owl123, Tenshi, Wild320,_

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: EVASION

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, January.

"I tend to get sick of things trying to kill me. Especially when they succeed in doing it. But I never saw anything like this before Galadriel, never. Okay, there were the super-vamps which admittedly reminded me of the one that killed me, I never saw demons go all 'immolation-o-gram' on me. Vamps yes; demons, no. You see, I get this funny feeling that it was sent to kill me. And I have a sneaking suspicion that it was our ol' pal in Mordor."

"This news is troubling indeed," Galadriel said, her fair face concerned, "For Sauron to target you so specifically means that he fears something about you. His hand has not yet grown so strong that he is above fear. But that he should know enough about you to accomplish his goals is dire news enough. Even if you were not my friend, it is not yet your time, and there is much good that you still must do."

"And the immolation thingy?" Buffy asked curiously.

"I think you already know the answer, Buffy." came the reply.

"Can't you give a straight answer just once?!" the blonde woman exclaimed, "I'm not in the mood to decipher clues, mellon, just tell me what you're thinking please!"

"I think Narya defended her bearer. You were untried, untested, unaware of any power that ring held, but at the time, you were its new mistress, and the Three are connected. It would not be lost to the other two. So I think that it repelled the threat to you, but if events were as you say, it used a considerable portion of your own strength to do so, and as you grew weaker, it could not do the same to all your foes."

Buffy just stared at her, blinking rapidly, "Okay, is it supposed to do that?"

Galadriel sighed, "I do not know, Buffy. You are the first mortal to bear one of the Three. Only Celebrimbor could say for sure, and he took his secrets to the grave with him. Even the wisest cannot say now. Perhaps those over the Sea could answer you, but none on these Hither Shores now can, for its maker and its last bearer is dead, and the previous bearer guarded it only and did not wear it."

"So once more I'm in the land of the unknown?" Buffy asked with a sort of gallows humour. "I mean I enjoy winning as much as the next guy, but when the demon you're grappling with just bursts into flames, it is creepy."

From her vantage point, Galadriel looked anxious, a most unusual expression for the nearly always serene Lady of the Wood, "Galadriel? Are you okay?" she asked.

The lady waved her off, "I am fine, but I worry that if Sauron could create such things to kill you, will he incorporate them into his armies? The world of Men's fate stands on the edge of a knife. They would not survive it."

"I know," Buffy admitted grimly, "But on the plus side, I think Boromir's been converted to the sane camp. And from what he says, his brother, Faramir has always been in the sane camp. So that's two allies in Gondor."

"But the rumours say that Théoden King of Rohan is failing, and with him, his country." Galadriel said. "If either Gondor or Rohan fall it clears the way for the last remaining kingdom to besieged from all sides and fall also. The Elves cannot win this fight, our time is over. The Last Alliance cost us many lives, and many more Elves sailed afterwards. We have not the resources nor the strength to hold off Sauron. There is power enough to stand for a little while perhaps, but if the Men of the west fall into shadow, then Middle Earth shall fall with them."

"Then I guess that Aragorn better take charge of them sooner rather than later," Buffy said, her eyes troubled.

"Then you had better make sure that he does not falter, mellon," Galadriel said ominously, "Because if he does stand against the shadow, Gondor _will _fall."

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, February 1.

For many days now had she avoided him, and he could take it no more. The rules of propriety be damned, he could not take any more of this waiting and this evasion ere he went mad.

Storming into Buffy's flet, he did not falter at her stunned expression that rapidly shifted into anger. "Do you mind if I join you?" he said with false politeness, as he made sure to block the only exit.

"On many levels and with great intensity." Buffy bit out, "What are you doing here Aragorn? Haven't you caused enough trouble for one week?"

"Can we talk?" he asked, the stubborn glint in his grey eyes telling the slayer that he would not back down until he had gotten some answers.

"Vocal cord-wise, yes. With each other, no." Buffy said, rising from her chair, and pointing imperiously at the door, "Now, get out."

"Most certainly not," Aragorn said, leaning against the doorjamb and enjoying the riot of emotions that flickered across her expressive face. It reassured him to know that he had not been the only one thrown by the incident the night of the feast. "We have much to discuss, Buffy."

"Well, I don't think that we do," she said and stomped over to him threateningly, "Now get out, or I will throw you out."

"Buffy, I do not care what threats you level at me," Aragorn said, taking a step forward himself, and using his height advantage over the slayer to make her crane her neck to see him, "We have a great many things to discuss, mellon nín, and I will not allow our friendship to be sundered ere I ever convince you of my sincerity."

She took a deep breath, as if to calm herself, "Aragorn, I do not want to hear whatever it is that you have to say. In fact, let's just pretend it never happened. I'm not about to hurt Arwen like that, or make a fool out of myself for you."

"Let us be reasonable about this." Aragorn said soothingly, but was halted by the determined look on her face as she slipped into the perfect stance to throw him.

"You may have noticed, Aragorn... But I left reasonable about three exits back." Buffy said, "I offered you the chance to leave before this got ugly and you refused. What's a girl to do in the face of that much stupidity?"

He grabbed her by the arm, let her feel the strength that lay coiled within him, letting her know that he would not submit easily, "You sneaked away ere I woke," he said quietly, "Before I ever had a chance to explain myself, or for you to do so. I want to know why."

"I did not _sneak_... away." Buffy said, "Right, you were asleep. I didn't want to wake you. And, I did think of writing you a note, I just didn't leave it."

"We did nothing wrong, Buffy." Aragorn said levelly, "My troth with Arwen is broken, I wish to court _you_. Do not deny that you care for me, you proved so that night."

At the reminder of Arwen, Buffy shored up her defensive walls and tried to glare coldly at the Dúnadan, "Whatever I said then has passed. Whatever I felt then has passed. Where I come from, it's called a one night stand. Get over it Ranger."

Aragorn stared at her in shock. It just could not be possible… He had _finally_ managed to get her to admit that she felt something for him and now she was denying it all again?!

"I do not believe you," he said, and knew it was true, "Why do you lie so?" he demanded, and as she tried to jerk away, he held her by the arms, not allowing her to flee from him once more.

After several minutes of silent struggle, she subsided and glared at him, deciding that she could not throw him out of the flet because that just might kill him, and Eru knew that they couldn't have _that_, "What does it take to get rid of you?!" Buffy screamed in frustration, knowing that her resolve was wavering and that she could not allow him to see it lest he press his advantage, "Why don't you just leave me _alone_?!"

"I cannot leave you alone, Buffy," he said softly, "I wish to be with you. I wish to love you, to care for you, to cherish you, but you deny it and you deny yourself. I cannot abide it. Why do you not believe me when I say that my love is true!"

Her tenuous hold on her temper snapped, and fuelled by long years of hurt, it raged. ""Do you think I don't know that Elrond told you to break it off with Arwen?" Buffy said angrily, her eyes flaring in rage, and at Aragorn's surprised look, she knew that she had hit her mark.

"Do you think that I didn't know that you set her free because of that? And unfortunately that leaves you short a Queen to your King." she said derisively, "Now you could wait until you're all crowned and the noble ladies sweep in like vultures. But sadly, the ranger part of you says you can't trust them. All they want is prestige and a crown on their heads. Now that leaves you with only a few options. So you decide why not your dear old friend Buffy? She's pretty enough I suppose, you've known her long enough and oh yeah, she has supernatural strength which she just might pass down to the son you'd want her to give you. Don't kid me Aragorn, and most of all don't kid yourself. I'm not gonna be second best or the last resort for anybody. Find yourself another broodmare."

Aragorn could only stare in shock for a moment and she used it as her opportunity to get past him, but as she was climbing down from the flet, he recovered his wits and came after her.

"How dare you!" he exclaimed furiously, "Do you think me so base, so vile, as to toy with you so?! I thought that you knew me better than that, Dagnir! So this is your real opinion of me?! That I would be so treacherous that I would do such a thing to you, and to Arwen? If I had only wanted a child from you, I could have made wealthier matches!"

Buffy just rode out his anger as calmly as a stone in a river, "I never said that you were base, Aragorn. In fact, you probably have convinced yourself that your feelings are true, but I need more than to be forever second best. And that's something that you cannot give me."

Then she strode off across the grass as if she had not a care in the world.

Something inside Aragorn snapped as he listened to Buffy's words, and he decided that doing this the normal, polite way was apparently not working. Advancing on the infuriated slayer with a fury of his own, he turned her around and then he backed her all the way up to the trunk of a tree and had the audacity to smirk when her eyes widened at his actions.

"I do not think that you realise how serious I am, verce," Aragorn drawled, bracing his arms on either side of her head, watching as she debated whether to squirm out of his hold or just throw him off. (wild one)

"Aragorn, you maniac!" Buffy chastised, glaring at him furiously, "Get off me now or I swear…."

Her words were abruptly muffled as Aragorn's mouth swept down on hers and proceeded to turn her legs to jelly.

When he released her, she was gasping and he had the faintest smile on his face, but she was furious with herself for responding to him. Shoving him so hard that he fell to the ground, she bolted into the distance, anywhere to be away from him, and as she ran, she wiped away the single tear that fell.

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, February 3.

A few hours later, a frustrated Aragorn was left to pour out his woes to his good friend.

"I know not what to do," Aragorn admitted to Legolas, seeing the sympathetic gleam in his cerulean eyes, "She is refusing to even listen to me, let alone accept my courtship. It wears on me, meldiren."

"Well, at least you know that she does desire you," Legolas said, "That is no small thing."

"Oh yes I think that went exceedingly well. The only thing she forgot to do was lob something at my head!" Aragorn exclaimed, "She is determined to deny her own feelings, and the sincerity of mine!"

"Aragorn," the Elven Prince said softly, lounging back against the silver bark of the tree, "She has loved you long and deeply. And because of that, she has suffered much pain that you inflicted on her, however unwittingly. And you broke it when you pledged yourself to Arwen. Her heart has long been guarded, mellon, you cannot expect her to surrender it so easily."

"Then what am I to do?" the ranger asked in despair.

"Your first plan, ere you gave in to anger, was a good one," Legolas said with a small smile. "Aragorn, Buffy has never been wooed, from what I have heard from her, at least not properly. If you meet her anger with your anger, then you will get nowhere. She is too used to weathering the storms of battle to take heed of it. But if you woo her, pursue her, relentlessly chase her, then I think you have a chance of winning her. Prove to her that you will not give up, that you will not leave her, and I think you may yet achieve your desire. If she believes that your word is true, and that you sincerely do love her and will stay with her, then the guards she has put up will not hold."

"This from the prince of deviousness… the unmitigated terror of the Wood," Aragorn said, "I never took you for a romantic, Legolas."

"When the lady in question is worth it, mellon, she deserves nothing but the best," the prince answered with a smile.

Aragorn found himself smiling back, "A true statement, my friend," His grey eyes looked deeply at the Elf, and saw there what he had long been blind to, "Mellon, you have ever been a faithful friend, and have given me sage counsel and yet I know that you experience the travails of love as strongly as I. I have marked your regard for Arwen, and I grieve at the pain I must have inflicted on you as well."

Legolas's eyes widened, "You are not angry, Aragorn?" he asked carefully, watching his friend.

Aragorn shook his head, "Nay, Arwen deserves her happiness and so do you. And what kind of hypocrite would I be if denied Arwen a chance at love when she set me free to pursue my own? Nay, I think you two shall be well-matched. Especially to your adars."

The Elf groaned, "Do not talk to me about my adar or Arwen's," he said, "For I fear that their plots are too grand for my imaginings. And my adar's ire enough to rival Sauron's!"

And with the sound of laughter echoing through the glade, the prince and the ranger settled down to plot the courtship of their respective ladies…

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, February 6 - night.

But there was one in the valley who was not so encouraging towards Aragorn's suit of late, for she saw the dangerous distraction that it posed, and she knew that she had to intervene, for the sake of Middle Earth.

The slayer had to find her feet ere Aragorn knocked them out from under her once more.

"Elessar," she said quietly, coming to him in the night and bidding him follow her until they entered her halls.

"What do you want of me, my lady?" he asked, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes.

"I wish to speak of your suit towards Buffy."

"What of it?" he said defensively, "I beg your pardon, lady, but it is none of your concern."

"It is when it could affect the future of Middle Earth. There is something that I must tell you, that she will not. And know that I do it only to impress on you the need for caution." she said gravely.

He was curious despite himself, but dread underlined his thoughts at the lady's grim expression. "What?" he half-whispered.

"The Buffy that you knew died in the mines of Moria. How she returned to life, I know not, but I believe that it was with the grace of the Valar. But she has not been unchanged by the experience, Elessar. Her destiny may still be tied with yours, but by the Valar's will, she is no longer just your bodyguard but a player in her own right in this game of war."

"She _died_? But…" Aragorn murmured, head reeling, "How?"

"She says little even to me of what happened in the mines, and she says nothing to you. You are not to tell her that I told you this, for in doing so I fear I break a confidence in me. But I cannot allow to continue bumbling your way through what you do not understand."

She sighed, "You wish to tame what cannot be tamed. It is not within a slayer to be docile in anything. They were born for the battlefield and are seldom out of its borders. That was the truth ere the disaster of Moria. But she has changed now; she seems less volatile. I know not the cause though I mark the results. I know that she needs time to adjust; time that you are not giving her. But that is not the only thing standing in the way of your suit."

"She has been hurt in the past," Galadriel said solemnly, watching Aragorn carefully, "Her heart has been broken more than once but for you, it has bled the longest. In her mind, she believes that all relationships will end in failure because no one ever considered her feelings in the past; no one cared if her heart shattered and now, it has not mended and she fears you."

"I know some of that," Aragorn admitted, "Though I cannot comprehend why any honourable man would hurt her so."

"Mayhap because they were not honourable," Galadriel answered dryly, "But Elessar, hearken to me in this matter. You travel into looming darkness, and now is not the time for the slayer to be distracted and distraught. If she does not learn to be what she is meant to be, then things shall go ill for the realms of Men. Give her time ere you press her suit. Let her do what she must do."

Aragorn was silent for a long moment, his head bowed in sorrow, "For how long, lady?"

"You will know when the time comes." Galadriel said with a compassionate smile, "You do the right thing. Do not think that your hopes shall not be rewarded. Eventually, I believe you shall convince her that you speak true. She is stubborn, but I dare say that you can be even more so. Let her find her path, as you must follow yours. When you come to the golden halls, you shall know what to do. Cuio vae!" (farewell)

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, February 10.

Needless to say, when Aragorn suddenly backed off, Buffy was assured that she had won at last, relieved that the temptation was no longer in front of her and saddened that she had lost him for the last time.

But she was able to escape her sadness by taking Boromir under her wing. As she came to know him, she found him to be a good man and a good friend, though blinded by doubts about Aragorn, and the looming problem of the kingship about to be reclaimed. He also desperately wanted to save his city, and no small part of him wanted to please his father.

It was a heavy burden, one which weighed upon him, and so Buffy had taken it upon herself to both smooth Aragorn's way to the throne and to try to get rid of Denethor's bad influence over the proud Gondorian.

For his part, Boromir welcomed her friendship but his doubts of Aragorn and his jealousy towards him did not make for an easy relationship with the Dúnadan.

"You shouldn't judge him too harshly," a soft voice said from behind him, "You guard your White City, I know you do not want to relinquish it to him but listen when I tell you the Stewards will _not _be enough to hold back the darkness from claiming Gondor." There was a pause, "Aragorn is a good man, and will be a good king if that is his path."

"You would think so, Buffy," he retorted good naturedly, "But it is no easy thing to entrust your homeland to another who does not even seem to want it."

"He doesn't think that he can be a good king," Buffy said, perching down on the bench beside the man of Gondor, "He thinks that because Isildur fell to the Ring, he's to blame of that mistake, even three thousand years on. Silly, I know, but it's how he sees it."

"I have set to see in him any desire to help Gondor. He says he will help the White City, but he does not love it as I do."

"You were born there. I should know since I was there at the time. Of course, you love it. Aragorn's patrolled the north and ridden in the south before you were breathing, Boromir, you cannot expect him to feel as you do."

"I want to see the glory of Gondor restored," he said wistfully, "To be what it was before the line of kings ended. But I do not know if he can do it, and if I put my trust in him, my father will see it as an open betrayal."

"Denethor can't control you forever, Boromir," Buffy said softly, "He would like to but he can't if you don't let him. It's time you made your own decisions without listening to him at all. Aragorn is a good man, he will be a good king. He will restore Gondor. But you're going to have to forget the bile of Denethor, and judge Aragorn with your own eyes."

He laughed slightly, "You are a sage counsellor, Dagnir, would that Gondor had more advisors of your ilk and then we might not be in such dire straits. The army is not ready for this war, Buffy and my father believes too much in his own strength to muster them. I fear that when I reach Minas Tirith, that I shall only return to an empty city, razed to the ground by the hordes of Mordor."

She placed a gentle hand on his arm, "Is it really that bad?" she asked.

His head was bowed and weary, "Aye, it is. The Corsairs ravage our coasts so that the fiefs cannot send men to help the White City. Osgiliath is coming under heavy attack. I fear that we shall lose our only remaining defence on the river."

"What of Cair Andros? Is that not held?"

"There is not enough men. If Sauron attacked now, the garrison there would be slaughtered inside a day. And we are short good captains. I fear for the life of Gondor. I fear there shall be nothing left ere we make it there."

Buffy looked intently into his eyes, "Boromir, I promise you. If it's within my power to help Minas Tirith stand, I'll throw your father from the highest peak ere I let him lead the city into ruin. You have my word."

He clasped her hand tightly, "Then I thank you. Your words give me comfort."

Buffy smiled gently, "Minas Tirith shall stand, Boromir. I won't let it be otherwise. Whoever I have to punch to do it."

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The Mirror Grove, Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, February 14.

To say that Boromir was surprised when the Lady Galadriel led him to the Mirror Grove was a slight understatement to say the least.

When he tried to question her, she merely smiled at him and beckoned him onwards. "Will you look into the mirror?" she asked, holding a pitcher of water.

He eyes the basin warily, "What does it show?"

The Elf-lady let the water pour into the basin, "It shows what was, what is and what has yet to come to pass. Will you look, son of Denethor?"

Cautiously, he approached the mirror, and gingerly looked in.

For a moment, the mirror was blank but then as he leaned closer, images started to flicker across the surface.

(((( _His brother, Faramir being dragged through the gates of Minas Tirith by his horse…. A black army that spanned the Pelennor fields…. Black ships… a man burning… Frodo fleeing from him in some wooded area… and then he saw the One Ring, calling out to him, the boon that would give him the power to save his city… Minas Tirith in ruins…))))_

With a cry, he jerked back, and his shocked eyes sought out Galadriel, "What was that?!" he demanded.

"You saw some of what will come to pass, and some that must not come to pass." she answered, her eerie, fathomless blue eyes boring into him.

"Did I? Did I do that?" he asked, thinking back to the city of ruins that he had seen.

"The Ring brings only destruction, Boromir of Gondor, it cannot save your city. But it can destroy it." she said quietly.

"The army? Is that real?" he asked fearfully, thinking back on the legions upon legions of the enemy that he had seen.

"Sauron's forces have been gathering strength in the Black Lands," she replied, "You know this. Does their strength surprise you?"

"Yes, I thought we had more time."

"There is little time left. The battle for Middle Earth is about to begin. And the hammer stroke shall fall hardest on Gondor if Rohan survives their battles."

"What can I do?!" he exclaimed, meeting her gaze head on for the first time since he had come to the wood of Lórien.

He felt her probing him, as if to see his worth, "You will know when the time comes," she said at last, "But know this, you can give in to desire and temptation but if you do, your city shall fall to Sauron's might. Or you can overcome its hold over you, and bring aid when Gondor is in dire need. Only you can make this decision. But if you let the Ring defeat you then all that you love shall pass away in terror and darkness. Choose wisely, Boromir, for all your sakes."

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, February 15 , - evening.

It was their last night in Lórien, but it was not a happy one.

Much had they to decide, and decisions long postponed now had to be made ere they left. They needed to know what the fellowship was to do after they left the guarded borders of the Golden Wood. Whether they were to go on to Minas Tirith as some wished, and have respite there for a while or whether to cross the Emyn Muil and so enter the land of Mordor.

Long did they debate the matter, and arguments were rife over how they were to fulfil their pledge to destroy the One Ring.

The hobbits and Gimli wished to go to Minas Tirith, where they might receive aid and have some rest ere they began the feared trek into Mordor. Boromir, who had long desired that plan from the start of the journey, now spoke no word and his expression was conflicted as he contemplated the risks of bringing so great a weapon so near his father.

Aragorn was torn in two; on one hand he had sworn to follow Frodo's path but on the other, he knew that the time had come to claim the kingship and to do that meant going to the city of Minas Tirith. He had not expected to have this dilemma laid upon him but with the fall of Gandalf, the burden of leadership of the company had fallen to him, and how could he forsake Frodo now?

But he was also aware of the fact that they could give little aid to Frodo even if they followed him into Mordor, for how long could so strange a company passed unnoticed in the Black Lands? An Elven Prince, the Heir of Isildur, the heir to the Steward of Gondor, a Dwarf of Durin's line, a slayer, and four hobbits?

"I shall go to Minas Tirith, alone if need be, for it is my duty. If you wish only to destroy the ring, then there is little use in war and weapons; and the Men of Minas Tirith cannot help." Boromir said at last, but his heart was heavy and more traitorous thoughts within were urging to be spoken and he did not dare speak again for fear of what he might say.

Legolas, not eager to enter the Black Land, where no living thing grew at all save with malice, and which would undoubtedly make the mines of Moria look like vision of the West, spoke up, "How far can we go on from Lórien ere we must decide our course?" he asked, surprising those struggling with their choice of path.

Aragorn looked upon his friend with a faint smile, "We could travel by river to Parth Galen at furthest. From there we could cross into the Emyn Muil or the land of Rohan."

"Then cannot we go that far, and allow each of us time to choose our path?" Legolas asked.

"Aye," the ranger replied thoughtfully, "Has anyone any objection to this plan?"

No one said a word, and so it was decided. Though Frodo looked disquieted, but then, he had been strangely silent since his time with the Mirror of Galadriel. For a minute the company sat in silence, contemplating their fates but then Buffy stood up and broke the quiet.

Buffy sighed, "Well, I don't have a clue and I'm tired of talking about this so unless Frodo or Aragorn has anything to add I suggest we get to bed before we're all totally exhausted tomorrow. We can decide in Parth Galen. But for now, I'm off to bed."

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Lothlórien, 3019 TA, February 16. - morning.

Their leave-taking of Lothlórien was a subdued affair, for they all knew that once out of the Golden Wood, they were walking into the deepest of peril, from which there might be no return.

But after they had broken their fast with Celeborn and Galadriel, the Lady of the Wood had one final surprise for them.

"We have drunk the cup of parting," Galadriel said, clad in her customary white, "And the shadows fall between us. But before you go, I have brought in my ships gifts which the Lord and Lady of the Galadhrim now offer you in memory of Lothlórien."

The gifts were all of magnificent craft, and the hobbits were delighted with their gifts. Merry and Pippin had each received a fabulous silver and gold belt, while Sam, ever green thumbed, was given a special box of earth from the orchard of Galadriel and she promised him that it would make his garden bloom like few in Middle Earth.

Boromir received a golden belt, but the real gift was the steady counsel that the Lady imparted to him.

To Gimli was given an unprecedented honour. When asked what he wished to remember Lórien by, he had finally admitted to wanting nothing save a strand of Galadriel's golden hair. And she, who had refused the same honour to Fëanor, Prince of the Noldor, and Celebrimbor of Eregion, smiled and gave the Dwarf his desire; three strands of long golden hair. It was a high honour indeed from the daughter of Finarfin, but Gimli son of Glóin would not see the other part of his gift until the time came for his friend, Legolas, to sail over Sea.

When she reached Aragorn, she smiled and handed him a beautiful embroidered leather sword sheath, "The blade that is drawn form this sheath shall not be stained or broken even in defeat," she said, looking intently at the man, "But is there aught else that you desire of me at our parting? For darkness will flow between us, and it may be that we shall not meet again, unless it be far hence upon a road that has no returning."

Aragorn looked at her, who had counselled him and given him hope that his desire would yet come to pass and that his love would be accepted and returned, and he answered her to whom Buffy relied on so much, and who ever gave the slayer shelter in the Golden Wood when she needed it, "Lady, you know all my desire, and long held in keeping the only treasure that I seek. Yet it is not yours to give me, even if you would, and only through darkness shall I come to it."

"Yet maybe this will lighten your heart," Galadriel said, almost sighing at his ambiguity for she was certain that Buffy had mistaken his intent for Arwen, and not the slayer herself, "For it was left in my care to be given to you, should you pass through this land." From the Istar, Olórin himself when he first came to Middle Earth, to be given before the return of the king.

Then she lifted from her lap a great stone of a clear green, set in a silver brooch that was wrought in the likeness of an eagle with outspread wings. It was the stone he was named for, the Elessar, that made things flower green and beautiful in its wake.

"This stone I gave to Celebrían my daughter, and she to hers before it was recalled, and now it comes to you as a token of hope. In this hour, take the name that was foretold for you, Elessar, the Elfstone of the House of Elendil!"

And she handed him the stone and it flickered as he took it, green light glowing within it.

'_Do not be weary, Elessar, for I foresee that your heart's desire shall come to pass if you remember what I told you._' she mind-spoke to the ranger and was rewarded with a smile.

"For the gifts that you have given me I thank you," he said, "O Lady of Lórien of whom sprang Celebrían and Arwen Evenstar. What praise could I say more?"

The Elf-lady merely handed him a thick sheaf of parchment, folded and sealed with her seal. '_Read it when you are alone. For it contains something you must know but will not be told._' she told him as he looked at her in surprise.

She moved towards Legolas, and handed him a bow of the Galadhrim, stouter and longer than his Mirkwood bow, "May your aim ever be true," she said. '_And may you return to my granddaughter unscathed_.' she mind-spoke to him, '_Undómiel bids me tell you farewell, Thranduilion. And for what it is worth, you have my blessings. Make her happy, Greenleaf. Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya_." (May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky.)

He bowed, '_I thank you, my lady, I shall do my best_.'

And then she came to the slayer, "To you Buffy, who has faced the Shadow many times, I say this," she said, "Much toil lies before you but if you stay true, then your greatest desire shall come to fruition. But this I would give to you." She handed Buffy a small blue gem, which hung from a chain of mithril. "For you who can see many things. No longer shall you have to wait when your need is dire. Place this in water, and it shall act as my mirror. May it be a help to you when all other aid has deserted to you."

"And you Ring-bearer," she said, turning finally to Frodo, "I come to you last who are not last in my thoughts. To you I give the phial of Eärendil, the light of our most beloved star. It will shine still brighter when night is about you." She bent down and kissed the top of his head, "May it be a light to you in dark places, when all other lights go out!"

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Lothlórien, 3019 TA, February 16. - afternoon.

After her gifts were given out, the Lady stepped back, her face serene as Lord Celeborn led them to the boats.

He stopped at the riverbank, where three Elven boats lay moored, "May the grace of the Elves, and all of the Free Peoples of Middle Earth go with you," he said, "And may your fellowship have success where none seems to be found."

And so the fellowship settled into their boats; Boromir, Merry and Pippin in one, Aragorn, Frodo and Sam in another, and Legolas, Gimli, and Buffy in the last one.

And so it was that the Fellowship of the Ring left Lothlórien for whatever fate awaited them.

From the west bank, two luminous eyes pierced the cover of the trees, watching the company leave their last safe haven…

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A/N: So? What do you think? Opinions please! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!!!

So? What do you think? Opinions please! Please and !!!**__**

NOTICE: I have changed e-mail addresses. This was a change forced due to my last address not allowing me to send e-mails. Anybody trying to contact me, please take note. It is now _'ashadreamweaver at yahoo dot ie.'_

: I have changed e-mail addresses. This was a change forced due to my last address not allowing me to send e-mails. Anybody trying to contact me, please take note. It is now ****

P.S - _QUESTION_!!!! I have the basic outline for the sequel but I would like some reader input. What would you like to see happen in the sequel, within reason? It will take place around FA 1 or 2. I cannot promise that I will take any of the suggestions on board, but if they have merit, I just might use them. I've got my outline about half-way done and I'm trying to think of some spectacular endings. Clue: a war will be involved.

- !!!! I have the basic outline for the sequel but I would like some reader input. What would you like to see happen in the sequel, within reason? It will take place around FA 1 or 2. I cannot promise that I will take any of the suggestions on board, but if they have merit, I just might use them. I've got my outline about half-way done and I'm trying to think of some spectacular endings. Clue: a war will be involved.****

P.P.S - Is anyone else with a yahoo e-mail account having trouble sending e-mails? Every time I hit the 'compose' button, the space where you're supposed to type your message doesn't appear and I can't seem to fix it. Do any of you have the same problem, or even better know how to fix it? Please say so in a review or e-mail me if you know the answer!

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Next Chapter: Lothlórien gets a new visitor… plotting… and the breaking of the Fellowship…

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Elvish:

Mellon - friend

Mellon nín - my friend

Dúnadan - man of the west

Dagnir - Slayer

Verce - wild one

Meldiren - my friend

Adars - fathers

Adar - father

Elessar - Elf-stone

Cuio vae - farewell

Istar - wizard

Namárië - farewell

Undómiel - Evenstar

Thranduilion - son of Thranduil

Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilya. - May the Valar protect you on your path under the sky.

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Aman - also called the Blessed Realm, Valinor or the Undying Lands. Home of the Elves in the West.

Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

Eärendil - Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth.

Eregion - an Elven realm of the Second Age. Celebrimbor forged the Three Elven Rings here. Sauron laid waste to the city and its people, taking all the rings of power, and killing Celebrimbor and using his body as a banner.

Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

Parth Galen - 'Green Sward'.

Pelennor fields - 'Fenced Land'. The 'town lands' of Minas Tirith. Guarded by the wall of Rammas Echor.

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«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	37. Keeping Faith

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? Moreover, will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: okay, I seem to have confused a good deal of you. 'First Knight' will not end until after the Return of the King book. But as I have finally have all of my FK chapters plotted out and I know how I'm ending it, I'm plotting up the sequel so that there won't be a long gap between where this story ends and the sequel starts being posted. 'FA 1' meant Fourth Age, year one. Sorry I thought that was generally known. And okay, I realise that without knowing any of my ideas for the sequel, you're flying blind here, but if I give you my summary of it, then you'll know how FK ends, now wouldn't you?

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Review responses:

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Alexceasar - Gollum was watching them. And Boromir's fall is in this chapter.

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Anna - thanks! And I figured I owed you guys a small respite before I dive into the messy bits. Ah, the Boromir question. Everyone's asking that. Some of it is answered in this chapter! The sequel is post RotK. And yes, the dream you mentioned was significant. In that, it showed Buffy's future.

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Becky - I honestly do not know.

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Draco's Slytherin Vampiress - it was Gollum!

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Dreamer Child - ah, you will get the cryptic references in this chapter. It's just Galadriel and Elrond speak for 'not sure', and so 'better not say anything useful 'til I'm sure'. And I realise that Buffy's living in the land of denial, but you know, pressure, stress and imminent death tend to, how do I put this, make you let go of silly little denial things. (Hint, hint)

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Emma - it came in in first place!

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FallenStar2 - thanks! And Buffy does not turn against Aragorn. In this fic. The Narya issue is given a big hint this chapter, and pretty much resolves it, so I'll let you read it on your own. Of course, Arwen knows how stubborn they are, I think she just may have underestimated their hard heads though.

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Goldenshadows - thanks! And the sequel is post RotK. Also, no Scoobies will be dropping into ME. But I am planning more for the twins.

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Haley - I did imply it didn't I? And you get to see how it starts to work out in this chapter! And I think that I sent Buffy along with Frodo and Sam, she would end up taking over the show.

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Kit-Kat - I will be focusing in on parts of various storylines, except very little for Frodo and Sam, as I can't change their story plausibly.

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Locathah - I might…'cascade effect' is a good way of putting it.

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Malfeus - thanks! You are so sweet!

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Mari - just _loves _eating things. And actually, if you think about, in the sequel I get to torment so many more characters as well, like Elves, and the steward and the entire Gondorian royal guards and Thranduil and the twins and wow, a lot of people. Yes, the sequel will be after RotK. And yes, I have read the Silmarillion. But when did I say that Buffy would get an animal to help her because I so do not remember that. Refresh my memory, please. And there's about twenty more chapters left in FK.

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Meowsilbub - yes, she's about 70, but hey the Númenóreans considered that young! And I didn't say that Buffy is less violent, - she's never really been overly violent considering her job - but less volatile.

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Phoenix83ad - thank you! And Aragorn really did not prove himself the sharpest man in the romance department when it came to the whole him/Arwen/Buffy triangle. The Frodo and Sam story is pretty much a given. You really cannot allow another character into that mess without messing with their triumph. I mean, if I sent Buffy that way, she would kill Gollum and lead them into Mordor herself. Which would be kinda a problem from the not attracting attention POV. And for the sequel, there will be no return to Sunnydale. Ever.

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PrecariousPersonata - thanks! And you are so right about the straightforward answer! With the first part of the breaking of the fellowship in this chapter, I am hardly going to tell you now! 'A Light to You' is discontinued. I felt that it just did not measure up and that Isis had been a big mistake to introduce. But someone has expressed interest in continuing it and I'm waiting to see if they will follow through. If they do, I will let readers know in my authors notes of this story on where to find it.

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Scruffybunny - okay, see author's note for the sequel info. I know, Buffy has had a long wait. And she gave Narya to Galadriel.

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ShawThang - thanks and welcome back mellon! Thank you for all your comments and I think everybody agrees that the B/A thing is frustrating in the extreme! And the Elves did call Aragorn Estel, but that was when he was young. He's approaching his destiny to be king now, so I think it's going to be mostly 'Elessar' from those who want him to take the throne. And yeah, his proposal distinctly reminded me of Mr Darcy in 'Pride and Prejudice'. And glad to know you like the L/A pairing! :) And while the coma theory is officially out - way too soap opera-ish - I have things up my sleeve…

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Shymk - thanks for the tip!

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And major thanks to:

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Aleviel, Black Phoenyx, darknesssoonfollows, egastin77, General Mac, GoldenRat, Light Spinner, Lindiel Eryn, Lunawolf, magnetic-starfish, Night-Owl123, Saint Maverick, Sukera, Tara6, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Tsuki no Yasha, Whistler84, Wild320,

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CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: KEEPING FAITH

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, February 17.

"Welcome back Olórin." the Lady of the Wood greeted him as he clambered off the back of Gwaihir, Lord of the Eagles, having at last reached his destination.

The Maiar smoothed his white robes and turned to face her, "Galadriel," he said, looking around in some wonder, "Ah, yes, I remember this…"

"The West has returned you to us," the Lady said, stepping close to him, her eyes curious but gentle.

"My duties are not yet complete," he replied. "I must finish them ere the West can ever be more than memory to me."

"You are no longer of the Grey." she stated with certainty, eyeing his robes with some satisfaction. She had always felt him to be the best of the Istari sent east.

He looked at her and a renewed fire was in his eyes, "No, I am of the White." he said, "Saruman has been cast out of the Heren Istarion. I am Gandalf the Grey no longer."

"Do you wish for refreshment or rest?" she asked, knowing that any explanations would be long ones, but he waved her off.

"Nay, not yet. And I think you have much to tell me, daughter of Finarfin."

She smiled softly, and reached into a pocket in her dress, pulling out a gold band with a single red gem set in it. "This I was bidden to give to you." she said, and tried to give him Narya. "She would not keep it and so I must return it."

Gandalf looked at it for a moment, then sighed, his hand closing around the band, "This ring is mine no longer, Galadriel of the Golden Wood," he said softly, "It is another's now, and I shall return it to them when our paths cross again."

"So it is true," Galadriel said quietly, "I had suspected but I could not be sure."

The wizard laughed, "Ah lady, who could have expected this?" he said with good humour, "For Buffy has done a deed that the Elven wise could not since the Rings' creation. She has sundered them from the One."

Galadriel whitened and staggered back, bracing herself against the trunk of a mallorn, "What?" she gasped.

Gandalf smiled, "Buffy died with Narya. Granted, she was not meant to die. The Valar did not see that coming but they were able to take advantage of a tragedy and the event that came with it. Narya defended Buffy and tied itself with her. When Varda urged her fellows to give the slayer back her life, they found it impossible to sunder Narya's tie to Buffy and so they had to let it remain."

Galadriel just stared at him, the ever knowing Mistress of the Mirror shocked beyond belief, "How?"

Gandalf leaned on his smooth white staff, "It seems that young Buffy is quite the determined little thing. With Narya on her finger, she could not die when she _refused _to die. She fell at last, but her soul did not pass beyond the circles of the world. Too many bonds tied her to Middle Earth. The unforeseen connection with Aragorn, her tie to Narya, and her own sheer stubbornness. When Buffy's life was restored to her, the tie of Narya to the One Ring was broken. And with Narya, the ties of Vilya and Nenya were broken too. The Three are now their own masters. Sauron cannot touch them any longer, not unless he manages to gain one of them into his grasp. But the Three can no longer be affected by the One from afar. Even if the worst came to pass, and the One was returned to its master, the Three could not be touched."

Galadriel's face was shocked and pale and many minutes passed ere she could speak, "She has freed us all…" she whispered.

"Yes," Gandalf said with a fondly amused smile, "She has just provided three more weapons against Sauron. You and Elrond can protect your realms without fear."

Sharp blue eyes landed on him, "And what of her fate? I saw the White Tree, Olórin…"

"Ah yes," the wizard said, a twinkle in his eye, "I daresay that will come as a shock to her. But come, that tale is for another day. Tell me, how do the fellowship fare?"

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Sarn Gebir, 3019 TA, February 23. - Night.

Over a week after they left Lothlórien, the Fellowship reached the rapids of Sarn Gebir, and camped there.

They day of their choice was drawing nearer and nearer and the fellowship was filled with tension. Too many of them had spotted a pair of eyes that gleamed menacingly in the dark, dogging their steps.

They were allowed no fire, and so the chill seeped into their bones even as they pulled their cloaks tighter around them. But 'twas not only the cold in their bones that chilled them but the cold in their hearts at the thought of where they would have to go.

Mordor. The Black Land.

They all had the choice; save for brave Frodo. To follow the hobbit into Mordor or to abandon the hobbit and do what exactly? It was the type of choice that turned the food they ate into ash in their stomachs.

But even more oppressive was the silence that dominated. Once they had left Lothlórien, they had realised that the days of levity and peace were over, and that they were now heading into the biggest war of the age.

"Elbereth Gilthoniel!" sighed Legolas, breaking the silence at last as he looked up. But as he did so, Buffy stiffened where she sat, and two blonde heads searched the sky.

And then it came.

A dark shape, almost looking like a cloud for a moment, moving way too swiftly to be any natural thing, came out of the dark in the south and sped towards the fellowship. Buffy felt a shiver down her spine and leapt to her feet, as it came closer, blocking out all the light from the moon.

By now, the rest of the fellowship had noticed that something was wrong, and they soon descried the reason why.

A great winged monster, blending into the black of the night, flew through the skies and from across the riverbank, the foul cries of orc-voices rose up in greeting. Even as Legolas nocked his bow, Frodo grabbed his shoulder with a startled gasp as a sudden chill burned through his old wound.

Even as Buffy hissed, "Nazgûl!" under her breath, Legolas's bow sang and the creature swerved to try to avoid it. It failed and as the Elven arrow impacted, there came a harsh, croaking scream as it plummeted to the ground of the eastern shore, mixed in with the fell shriek of the Black Rider upon its back.

From the opposite bank, as the fellowship watched, there was a sudden roar of orc-voices, cursing and shouting and then came a sudden silence. Nothing more came from the eastern bank that night.

There was silence amongst the fellowship for a long while as they strained to hear anything else, but no other sounds reached their ears. At last, they felt it safe to talk again, and finish their meal, if any had appetites left after that fell scream.

"Praised be the bow of Galadriel, and the hand and eye of Legolas!" said Gimli, munching a wafer of Lembas, "That was a mighty shot in the dark, my friend!"

"But who can say what it hit?" said Legolas, his fair face grim. He was no stranger to the Nazgûl, a captain of the Mirkwood forces as he was, and he knew well enough to recognise one of the Nine when he saw them. But out of concern for the hobbits, he said nothing.

"I cannot," Gimli replied, and shuddered as he thought on it, "But I am glad that the shadow came no nearer. I liked it not at all. Too much it reminded me of the shadow in Moria - the shadow of the Balrog." he ended in a whisper.

"It was not a Balrog," said Frodo, still shivering and his shoulder still pained him, "It was something colder. I think it was -" He trailed off as if he did not want to say the words, and so Buffy, with little concern for sheltering the hobbits at this late stage, spoke up.

"It was one of the Nazgûl," Buffy said with no little disgust, "On another monster of some kind. Obviously new from Mordor, also known as Monsters'r'us."

Aragorn, sitting beside her, took her hand in his and squeezed it for a moment before letting go. She was grateful for the friendly comfort. She _hated_ the Ringwraiths.

The ranger sighed, "I had hoped that we had gone unmarked," he said, "We shall have to be extra vigilant from now on. Danger looms in front of us and behind us it seems. Let us hope that we shall not encounter the Nazgûl and their fell beasts any more."

None could disagree with that sentiment.

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Parth Galen, 3019 TA, February 25.

Two days later, they had passed through the Argonath and had reached the relative safety of Parth Galen. They knew full well that the eastern bank was filled with orcs and they had little doubt that they hunted the company.

But they had no choice but to stop on the western shore and make camp there, for they could go no further without choosing their path.

Aragorn had reluctantly decided that his oath to Frodo took precedence, and that he would follow him to whatever end, "We could cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats, and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."

Gimli, puffing away on his pipe, just stared at him in derision, "Oh, yes? Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks? And after that, it gets even better! Festering, stinking marshlands, as far as the eye can see!"

Aragorn glared at him, "That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

That caused the Dwarf to start sputtering and choking on his own smoke, "Recover my... phfwahh... Recover strength... Pay no heed to that, young Hobbit." he said to Pippin, "Aragorn knows nothing of the strength of a Dwarf!"

Buffy decided to intervene before there was war, "We'll take a vote after we're all rested some. I don't want to be cleaning up ranger and Dwarven parts if you keep fighting!"

Then she crossed over to Merry and Pippin and laying a hand on their shoulders, smiled menacingly, "By the way, master hobbits, if you even _think_ of gossiping about me again, I will do may best to throw all your longbottom leaf in the river, and I will throw you two in after it! Got it?"

The two hobbits nodded, not liking the look on the slayer's face. "Good. Glad to know that that's sorted out. Never think that I won't find out, little hobbits, I always do."

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But while Buffy dealt with the wayward hobbits, Legolas hauled Aragorn aside to where they could not be overheard by the fellowship. "Aragorn, we should leave now. It is not safe here."

Aragorn shook his head, "No. Orcs still patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for the cover of darkness ere we can depart."

Silver-blue eyes bored into grey, "It is not the eastern shore that worries me. A shadow and a threat have been growing in my mind. Something draws near. I can feel it, Aragorn. Danger comes. If we stay here, nothing good can come of it."

The ranger sighed, "We have no choice, mellon, and we cannot leave without knowing where we are going. The fellowship must decide."

Legolas grasped his arm, "Then urge them to hurry. Before there is no fellowship left at all."

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While the others ate, Buffy stole away to the river, shielded from the fellowship's view by the trees. In her hand, she held the chain that Galadriel had given to her. She had to know if it worked.

Cautiously lowering the blue gem into the water, she watched and waited.

After a few moments, the clear surface of the water stilled, the current somehow stopped, and images began to flash along the surface.

With wide eyes, Buffy watched Boromir die, and knew that Legolas was right, danger was coming. And too soon for them to stop it. Jerking back from the water, she stared at the innocent blue gem in her grasp, and then looped it around her neck. No matter how unpalatable the vision, she would not do without them, not when she had a chance to change things.

With a frozen countenance, she sought out Gimli.

Hauling him aside, deep into the woods, though near enough to the fellowship to be able to hear them if they called, and then she spilled the whole tale to the Dwarf, and asked for his help to stop Boromir from committing the worst mistake of his life.

He was eager to help, "Of course, I will help you lass," he said gruffly, "We cannot let that man do something stupid! Trust a Dwarf to set things right!"

"We need to keep an eye on him. Both of us," Buffy said, "We'll have a little chat with him as well, but we need to watch him. When we see him about to do something stupid, we have to stop him! I'm not losing any of the fellowship on my watch!"

"Right you are, lassie," Gimli answered, "In fact, let's talk with him now. Because if he goes for the Ring, he will feel the bite of Dwarven steel!"

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It was a bemused man of Gondor that was tackled by a Dwarf and a slayer in concert.

"I hear your words, Dagnir," Boromir replied to her insistent pleas, "But how can I promise anything when I know not if I can keep my word?"

"I'm only asking you to try," Buffy said softly, "I saw your death once Boromir, I don't want to see it in real life. Ask yourself this, how can you help your city if you are dead?"

"Aye, lad," Gimli added, "We have all felt its pull, don't you be the one to fall now."

Boromir looked between the determined faces of the Dwarves and the slayer, "If the worst does come to pass," he said quietly, "Then it shall not be when I am in my right mind. For I reject the ring of Sauron, despites its sweet promises."

"I guess that's all I can ask, Boromir," Buffy said, eyes weary with the weight of more years than she had dreamed of living. She had seen too many fall for pride in her lifetime. "But be careful!"

"Yes, follow her advice, I would not want to nock my axe breaking your thick head!" Gimli said in jest, unwittingly diffusing the tension between the small group.

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From across the camp, Aragorn glowered across at Buffy and Boromir, sharpening his blade with more force than necessary as he seethed within.

He had borne witness to the phenomenon in Lothlórien, had seen Buffy and the man of Gondor grow closer, but as he watched them now, he felt the insidious creep of jealousy within his heart.

He and Buffy had returned to some semblance of their former friendship since Aragorn had momentarily abandoned his pursuit of her, but there was still an ever present tension and uneasiness whenever they were together and it smote his heart to see her do her best to avoid being alone with him.

And to see her laugh so freely with Boromir was cutting; she seemed to have time for everyone in the fellowship save himself and it wore on him.

He lived in constant fear that despite her incredible skills, that something would harm her and he would not be there to stop it. He knew that he could not protect her, and even more, that she would not let him, and it rankled at him but he accepted it. But at least before the many incidents in Lórien, she had trusted him to watch her back as she now did not. She did not want to be that close to him anymore.

Legolas sat down beside him and looked at him sympathetically, "Do not despair, Aragorn." he said softly, so that no one else could overhear, not even the always over-curious and irrepressible hobbits, "She feels nothing for Boromir save friendship, her heart is yours whether she admits it or no."

"And yet I cannot help but feel like showing him the sharp side of my sword," Aragorn growled.

The Elf only chuckled, "Ah, the hardships of courting, mellon," Legolas said, "But I would refrain from showing Boromir your ire when he does not even know he is causing it. That lady of yours is not one who I would wish to anger at this stage. Her shouts might give us away to the orcs," he paused for a moment, "Or scare them away perhaps, but it would not be a spectacle that I would care to be too close to."

Aragorn sighed, and lifted his black gaze from Boromir's back, "Very well," he said with no small smidgeon of ill-temper, "I shall leave him be."

Legolas just looked at him, "And no small surprises worthy of Elladan and Elrohir, or me."

Aragorn's glare was firmly focused on his friend now, "Is there any other pleasure you would care to deprive me of?" he said acidly, "Besides the many of which you have just robbed me?"

Legolas slapped him on the back with a knowing grin, "Nay, I shall leave that to your brothers when they find out what a disaster you have made of things with Buffy. I think they shall be heartily amused."

Aragorn just looked at his retreating back in horror, and then exclaimed "Legolas!"

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That night, whilst on watch, Aragorn drew out the letter that Galadriel had passed to him, and looked at it curiously.

Breaking the seal, he unfolded the parchment, still making sure to keep his awareness and senses trained on the fellowship's camp.

Though he knew not of any reason in particular for the Lady of the Wood to hand him a letter when he had just passed the better part of a month in her realm, he knew that it had to be of some significance for her to do so.

What secret could she not tell him in person, in her well guarded land? Curious and wary, he started to read.

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Elessar,

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This task falls to me because Buffy has no kin, save those of her heart, and though she is valiant, I know that you are well aware of her stubbornness. Because she would never tell you this herself, and she has no blood kin to speak for her, I feel that I must be the one to tell you, no matter the consequences. In speaking to you of this matter, I break a confidence, but by rights, Buffy should have told you herself, many years of Men ago. But she has not. And now I must do so for her.

Long has Buffy kept a secret from you, denying it herself and refusing to tell you anything about it even though you are as strongly involved as she is. She has kept herself bound to this needless secrecy since before your troth with Arwen. It was not that which stayed her hand, but fear.

Buffy is one of the bravest souls that I know, but that is on the battlefield. In battles of the heart, she is terrified and she runs. Always, she runs. As she did from you. She is a Dagnir, but she is also a woman. And too often does she bury the woman beneath her duties as a warrior. In this way has her heart been guarded since her coming to Middle Earth.

When Denethor poisoned you, Elessar, years ago in Minas Tirith, death was ready to claim you. Your life was spared only by Buffy's intervention. And she had to put forth all her skill and power to bring you back from the brink. In doing so, there were consequences that she did not foresee.

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She went further than she knew she could to save you, and her fëa gave yours the strength to live. But in doing so, your fëar joined and a bond was formed between you. This fed you strength from Buffy, enough to keep you alive and enough to heal you faster than you should. This bond was unknown to Buffy until I told her what it was, and she should have told you immediately. But she did not; she would not fetter you so. And nor would she admit that you were the owner of her heart.

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Aragorn, the bond forged between you is akin to that between a man and a wife amongst the Edhil. I know not to this day if it will hold in the eyes of the Valar, when it was done unknowingly by both parties, but for all intents and purposes, she bonded you her husband and you bonded her your wife. In times of need, you have felt this bond. Always, when one of you is in dire straits, the other has come to them. 'Twas how she found you in the Mines of Moria when you first entered them.

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What you decide to do with this information is up to you, Aragorn. But I urge you to be careful. Do not chase her away. For just as you are destined to be King of Men, she is bonded to you, and is Queen whether she wills it or no, unless you somehow manage to dissolve the bond binding you to each other. She has her destiny, as you have yours.

Act wisely, Elessar.

Namárië,

Galadriel Finarfiniel.

Wide grey eyes stared at the parchment in disbelief, and then they turned to level a betrayed stare at the blonde-haired woman wrapped up in her bedroll beside Sam.

How could she have done this to him? To them? To not even tell him! What would have happened if he had married Arwen? Would she have allowed him to enter into wedlock already bound to another? And she had the audacity to deny any feelings between them?

His eyes burned with unrestrained fire as he thought on what could have been. So many years wasted… so many lies told.

She could run, he decided, but he would be waiting when she slowed. When he acted, she would feel it long before she ever saw it coming…

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Parth Galen, 3019 TA, February 26.

That afternoon, the solemn fellowship gathered together to make their choice as to the direction of their venture. But though eight of them were present, two were not and the absence of the Ringbearer could not go unnoticed for long.

Happily chewing on an apple, as if they were not about to decide whether to dare enter the festering land of Mordor, Merry looked around curiously. "Where's Frodo?" he asked, drawing everyone else's attention to the missing hobbit.

Aragorn quickly scanned the camp in alarm, his anxiety growing as he noticed another who was missing, "Where is Boromir?" he asked.

Sam answered him, "He said that he was getting firewood so I could cook us some supper, Strider."

Across the camp, Gimli and Buffy's eyes met in mingled alarm and worry.

The slayer leaped up from her perch, "Find them!" she cried as she and the Dwarf tore off in one direction, leaving the rest of the fellowship to scatter as they pleased in search of their missing companions.

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Boromir did not know what had come over him, only that he had to follow the insistent tugging in his mind ere it rent it in two. As he moved through the wood, he absent-mindedly picked up faggots of firewood but his thoughts were clouded and his purpose unknown.

But then Frodo had wandered across his path and it was like another person moved in his body, another's voice who spoke; he felt like he was watching his body from afar, no longer connected to it at all, save being allowed to watch on in growing horror.

"None of us should wander alone." his voice said, words that had not crossed his mind but something else's, "You least of all. So much depends on you. Frodo? I know why you seek solitude. You suffer. I see it day by day. Are you sure you do not suffer needlessly? There are other ways, Frodo. Other paths that we might take."

Boromir could see where this was going and he knew that Buffy's warning was coming to pass, and for all his fighting, it seemed that he could not stop what was about to occur. The Ring had laid hold of him and it was not letting go.

Frodo looked at him askance and with no little wariness and the man wanted to scream at him to run, but his voice was not his own. The Ring spoke through him now, and he had never known such shame as he had for being so easily caught.

"I know what you would say, and it would seem like wisdom, but for the warning in my heart." Frodo said cautiously, trying to subtly back away from the man.

But what was about to come could not be stopped by either of them.

"Warning? Against what?" Frodo's eyes widened as the warrior began to advance on him, and the hobbit realised that if this came down to a fight, he could not win.

"We are all afraid, Frodo, but to let that fear drive us to destroy what hope we have! Do you not see? It is madness… To destroy the very thing that is our only hope of winning!"

Frodo shook his head in growing fear, "There is no other way." he replied firmly.

The man glared angrily, "I ask only for the strength to defend my people!" he cried, hurling the firewood in his arms to the ground, "If you would but _lend _me the Ring…"

The Ringbearer could endure this no longer, and began to back away, caring little of what the man thought now, "No!"

"Why do you recoil? I am no thief!" he said, and even Boromir could hear the madness in his tone.

"You are not yourself!" Frodo cried, and the Ring knew that its prey was close to falling.

"What chance do you think you have? They will find you. They will take the Ring. And you will beg for death before the end! You fool! It is not yours save by unhappy chance." he snarled, the Ring speaking through his voice, attacking through his actions, and the man began to stalk towards Frodo, who tried to run, but to no avail, "It could have been mine. It should be mine!"

The man lunged towards Frodo, grabbing him and pulling him to the ground, pawing at the neck of his shirt where the One Ring should hang, "Give it to me! Give me the Ring!"

Frodo struggled desperately, but Boromir was bigger and stronger and a fully trained warrior. At last, he managed to grab the Ring from Boromir's grasping hand and slip it onto his finger, and then he disappeared and used the warrior's confusion to whack him across the face.

Boromir staggered back up to pursue him, "I see your mind!! You will take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us! You go to your death! And the death of us all! Curse you! Curse you and all the Halflings!" He raved, and then he slipped and fell, and abruptly he felt the Ring's control of him falter, and he was himself once more.

"Frodo? Frodo? What have I done? Please, Frodo…" he cried, and as shame shrivelled his pride, he wept softly for in the end, he had not had the strength to resist the Ring's call, "Frodo, I'm sorry! Frodo!" he cried to the silent woods, but there was no answer.

He lay there for some time, running through his deplorable actions, and hate built up within him for the Ring. Unbidden, the words of Buffy came back to him, '_You are a better man than Denethor could ever be. Prove it. If the Ring… bothers you, I'll try to help, but please, don't give into it._'

He had failed in his word, and in his pledge to protect Frodo, but he would not lie down and allow the Dark Lord to laugh at his weakness.

He may have fallen to the Ring, and he would live with it for the rest of his days, but he had to redeem himself, instead of lying down in the dirt. He owed Frodo that much. He owed them all that much.

He staggered unsteadily to his feet, intending to seek out Buffy and tell her what he had done, but as he walked through the forest, his heart heavy, he heard the tramping of orc-feet, their faint cries and snarls, - all too familiar to the man of Gondor.

Drawing his sword, he headed in the direction of the sounds. Frodo was out there alone and undefended, because of him, and he would not allow the Ringbearer to fall. Whatever the cost to himself.

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As the Dwarf huffed and puffed as he tried to keep up with the much fleeter Slayer, Buffy heard the call of the Ring, close by. And then the voice of Frodo came to her ears and without any other warning, the Ringbearer himself came upon them.

"Frodo!" Buffy exclaimed in relief, "Are you okay? Have you seen Boromir?"

The hobbit eyed them warily, "The Ring has taken Boromir," he said quietly.

Gimli swore and Buffy gasped, "Did he take the Ring from you, Frodo?" she asked urgently.

He stepped back from them, as if afraid and she turned hurt eyes upon him, "I would not hurt you, Frodo."

"But so said Boromir, and the Ring still took him. I must make my own way now."

"You mean to go on alone?" Gimli asked with a snort, "And how do you propose to do that?"

"I have no time," Frodo said with urgency, "Orcs are here. They attacked at the Seeing Seat. Aragorn has drawn them off but I must go."

"Aragorn?" Buffy said in dismay and grasped Frodo's wrist, "Who is with him?"

"No one," he answered and caused Gimli to mutter most unfavourably under his breath about the sheer stubbornness of fool rangers.

Buffy felt torn between her promise to the Ringbearer and her duty towards Aragorn, but in the end duty won out, "Run!", she said to him, "Run swiftly and silently and get to the boats. Take enough supplies to last you, twice as much as you think you will need and leave. They will not follow you onto the river. If the orcs have crossed to this shore, then you should get to the east bank safely. From there you have to cross the Emyn Muil and so into Mordor. Be careful, Frodo and may the Valar ensure your safety, for I cannot!"

He nodded and ran off, Buffy watched him go. "Find Legolas!" she said to Gimli, "I don't even want to think of how many orcs Aragorn is fighting alone. Tell the Elf to get his bow there in double time!"

She meant to run after Aragorn, and help the beleaguered ranger out but somehow her thoughts kept drifting to Boromir, and she knew that she had to find him before he did something stupid like get himself killed. She was not prepared to let the Mirror's vision come true.

With a Dwarven curse of her own, she veered off the trail and tried to find the man of Gondor.

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While helping Frodo get away from the Uruk-hai, Merry and Pippin would readily admit in the future that perhaps they had not thought things through. Because by attracting their attention, they had the slight problem of having to run for their lives themselves.

Unfortunately, their flight came to an abrupt end when another group of Uruk-hai came towards them, trapping them between two groups of livid monsters. It was not the ideal situation for two young hobbits to be in.

Even as they were surrounded, and the Uruk-hai started to lunge at them, from nowhere, Boromir appeared as if he was their saviour and started hacking and slashing at the orcs as he fought his way over to the hobbits whose swords were not felling so many orcs as they were angering them.

Boromir saw that he was badly outnumbered and lifting the heirloom horn of his house to his lips, he blew it and the sound echoed throughout the area.

Then standing in front of Merry and Pippin, his sword a whirling metal blur and his shield taking many hits, he waited for an opportunity to present itself. He could only hope that it would come.

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In front of the Seeing Seat, a fierce fight still raged, with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli fighting off the many Uruk-hai that swarmed the area.

But then the piercing note of a horn shattered the clash of metal on metal and the singing of Legolas's bow, and the Elf's ear identified it instantly, "The Horn of Gondor…" he said, looking at his comrades with apprehension.

Aragorn's eyes widened in alarm, "Boromir!" Slashing at the nearest Uruk-hai, the ranger led the way as the trio raced their way towards Boromir's call.

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In the wood, Buffy too heard the horn, and she shivered as she realised that what she had seen was coming to pass, whatever she did to try to stop it.

Picking up speed, she raced in the direction of the horn, hoping to Eru that she would not be too late, and that she had not failed Boromir at the last.

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Boromir's shield arm was wracked with pain from the fierce blows landing on his shield, and reverberating up his arm, making his very bones ache at the force of it. His sword was nocked from the Uruk-hai's armour and he was tiring as they sensed his weakening and pressed him even harder.

He looked anxiously at the terrified faces of Merry and Pippin, and he knew that he had to get them out of here, else he would fall and then they would have nothing standing between them and death.

Kicking an orc in the chest, knocking him back into his fellows, he grabbed hold of their jackets and dragged them along with him as he broke through the gap in the orcs and started to run, the guttural invectives of the Uruk-hai reaching their ears as they gave chase.

When the man's back was turned, a Uruk-hai stepped up with a crossbow and fired. The black bolt struck Boromir in the shoulder and he faltered, grasping it in shock and gasping painfully as he sank to his knees. He urged the hobbits to run, to leave him, he would only slow them down, but Pippin, unable to do it, raced back and grabbed Boromir's free hand. He jerked Boromir forward and in doing so unwittingly saving the man's life for another crossbow bolt, one that would have penetrated his chest, sailed by the man's head, barely missing him.

Pippin stared at it in shock and then started pulling Boromir up. This time 'twas the young hobbit that dragged the man along.

As the man did his best to ignore the jolting pain in his shoulder, he urged the hobbits to run as fast as he could, his longer stride easily keeping pace. He knew that the Uruk-hai were gaining on them and if some miracle did not happen soon, they would all fall to their cruel hands.

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The Falls of Rauros, 3019 TA, February 26.

It was not enough. And when they raced out of the woods only to find a sheer drop in front of them, they knew the game was over. They were trapped with only a fall into the falls or the orcs to choose their death from.

Boromir's sword flashed in his good hand as he met the Uruk-hai that streamed out after him blow for blow. But the archer took up his crossbow again and this time, the bolt flew into his arm, the same one whose shoulder was already wounded. Boromir fell the ground at the force of it and the Uruks pounced on him, bringing him down with blows and fists.

The warrior of Gondor tried to rise to his feet when he saw that Merry and Pippin were surrounded but he could not get past the Uruks surrounding him, who drove him ever closer to the ledge.

Even though the hobbits tried their hardest to fight, they were overpowered and swung up onto the shoulders of the Uruks, carted away like sacks of grain and Boromir could do nothing to help them.

Even as he fought to go to their aid, the Uruks herded him back, until at last he made a misstep. Crying out in shock as the ground gave way beneath his feet, his sword fell from his grip as he went over the edge.

The Uruks jeered him at his fall and heeded their leader who shouted for the maggots to get moving, they had a delivery to make.

His fingers scrabbling at the loose shale, one arm next to useless to him, he desperately grabbed at the crumbling ledge, fighting to hold onto his life, even as the roar of the falls sounded beneath him…

And the Uruk-hai archer was coming towards him once more, crossbow raised…

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A/N: Well? What do you think? Ah, now do I kill him or not? Please **READ **and **REVIEW!!!!**

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Next chapter: We learn Boromir's fate…. Buffy and Gimli receive some interesting news… the first intro of Faramir into this fic… and something stirs in the east….

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Elvish:

Gilthoniel - star-kindler

Mellon - friend

Elessar - Elf-stone

Dagnir - Slayer

fëa - spirit

fëar - spirits

Edhil - Elves

Namárië - farewell

Finarfiniel - daughter of Finarfin

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Heren Istarion - Order of Wizards

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

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Parth Galen - 'Green Sward'.

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Varda - greatest of the Queens of the Valar. She is the maker of the stars, and the wife of Manwë.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	38. Dead Men

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: And now for the moment of truth! Will he live or won't he? And a hint, there will be scattered romance in the next chapter.

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Review responses:

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Allen Pitt - You were not meant to see it coming. Aragorn will not be getting any rings of his own. He has a crown coming to him. That is enough for any man. And as for Buffy's life, well you are going to have to wait and see….

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Anna - yes, Buffy never follows any plans set out for her. She surprises the Valar a lot. After all, she is not exactly one for following rules or conventions! Aragorn will not find out from her mouth, but let's just say that in a future event, she is going to do something that's going to be it a little obvious that something's up. And yes, I started back at school last week. It sucks, especially since I have 12, three hour long each, exams in four weeks.

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Anorien - I think he is going to get more than a 'taste'.

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Anyanka of the Ocean - welcome back then! You printed it all out? Wow, isn't it like a couple of hundred pages by now? Novel length almost, I think. Moreover, I assure you that Faith will not come into this story. Ever.

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Arikajayne - wish granted! And no Éowyn romance with Boromir! I am sticking to canon with that girl!

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ChibiChibi - A Nazgûl goes by many names, amongst them Ringwraith, wraith, Black Riders, the Nine, the Ulairi etc. The flying monster has no name, so it's just flying monster. And you are wrong about Boromir!

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Emerald sorceress - you just might be right…

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FallenAdieu - you should never underestimate me. It's a dangerous thing. I twist things around in directions no one expects!

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FallenStar2 - yeah, Galadriel likes meddling. Yes, she will get Narya back. And I have a _very_ evil muse. Who has some extremely nasty plotlines coming up…

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Greeneyes - depends on how crazy your thinking is…

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Haley - conversation? I cannot see them having a civil conversation over that. More like a shouting match!

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Kit-Kat - well, Gandalf did have to go to Lórien to collect the messages that Galadriel sends to the fellowship. So I figured that it would be good to have a scene between them. Plus, they do the explaining thing so much better than I do. And about the letter, well Galadriel was the only one who could do it since Buffy definitely was not going to. And nobody said that Aragorn has taken in anything yet. You haven't seen any of his reactions yet! And you have hit on one of the things that might be in the sequel. And Buffy - motherhood. Well, I was actually planning in that eventuality to write a short fic to deal with that, with humour, drama and no baddies for once.

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Light Spinner - he is your fave character in FotR? That's good then. And I think Aragorn has decided to throw rash out of the window, unless he gets angry, and go with sneaky.

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Lindiel Eryn - (bows and waves) I have always freely admitted that I was evil. Perhaps I skimped on the health warnings? Hmmm…. Ah, yes, Éowyn. Let's just say 'spanner in the works'. (Cackles madly)

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Lph - the scythe was from Buffy's home world and part of the slayer line. It couldn't pass into ME and so remained behind.

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Lunawolf - he is sneaky, isn't he? Pity Buffy doesn't know that he knows that she knows about the bond.

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Maethoriell Uini Tawar - you may not, but you can curse me all you want!

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Mari - I don't think I did. (Shrugs) Oh well… and you get your wish!

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MiShA - it will be explained gradually throughout the chapters. As for a clue…. Let's just say that another name for Narya is the Ring of Fire…

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pamie884 - oh, don't worry, I have meaner ones. And yes, that confrontation between Buffy and Aragorn should be very interesting once it blows.

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phoenix83ad - I am the self-proclaimed Queen of Horrid Cliffhangers. About hobbit interaction, I really never clicked with Frodo or Sam in the books or the films so I find writing about them too much is tedious. But please remember, the irrepressible duo Merry and Pippin are not finished in this story yet! And while Gollum and Buffy would he hilarious, she'd end up killing him within five minutes. And I quite like Gimli. I think he's a wonderful character for banter and humour!

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PrecariousPersonata - thank you! And Buffy's presence had to affect something! So I thought that I'd go for broke! And Buffy is not Narya's bearer currently. And yes, the sundering of the link means the Three would probably continue to hold their power even after the One Ring is destroyed.

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RedsLover03 - Totally agreeing. Sean Bean as Boromir was just so cute!

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Sabia - thanks! Buffy is going to change quite a few things…

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Shadow Master - thanks! And it looks like you get your wish. The fic diverges from here on out.

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ShawThang - yes, Aragorn's reaction is typical. But just wait until he gets crafty!

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sparky24 - 'Interesting' is not the word for it. And Buffy is my main focus. But I can do other things too.

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Star - thanks! And I personally think that both Buffy and Aragorn are crazy! And I like Boromir and Gimli and so I am fleshing out their roles some! Glad to know you like it! And I hope you like my take on Faramir.

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Stoic - sorry, but I didn't agree…. I figure I can do both and really screw around with things while I'm at it… and I think Aragorn's courtship is going to be a battle. Most likely literally.

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Svarra - I'm planning on keeping the resentment of Denethor and changing things!

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vixen519 - wouldn't you like to know?…..

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Wizathogwarts - thanks! And don't forget that Gandalf's even more cryptic so of course that conversation should be doubly interesting! Bonded herself to a higher being? Who? She's bonded to no one but Aragorn. And go you! You're one of the only ones to notice the wording said 'fall' not 'death'! Good on you!

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And major thanks to:

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BB, CharmingStar, Coopers McFarley, Ebs, Fish Head The 3rd, General Mac, GoldenRat, goldenshadows, Jade Hunter, Kate, Imp17, jumping-jo, Maleficus Lupinus, Night-Owl123, Siren's Call, Sukera, Tara6, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Tsuki no Yasha, viggo lover, Wild320, wolfboy68,

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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: DEAD MEN

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"Those who live by the sword tend to get shot by those who don't."

- Unknown

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The Falls of Rauros, 3019 TA, February 26.

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Even as he fought to go to their aid, the Uruks herded him back, until at last he made a misstep. Crying out in shock as the ground gave way beneath his feet; his sword fell from his grip as he went over the edge.

The Uruks jeered him at his fall and heeded their leader who shouted for the maggots to get moving, they had a delivery to make.

His fingers scrabbling at the loose shale, one arm next to useless to him, he desperately grabbed at the crumbling ledge, fighting to hold onto his life, even as the roar of the falls sounded beneath him…

And the Uruk-hai archer was coming towards him once more, crossbow raised…

The dirty metal of the bolt pointed at him was, he suspected, going to be the last thing he ever saw.

The large Uruk leered at him, a mocking smirk further twisting its features, and raised the crossbow to finish him off, even as he felt his hold on the crumbling ledge slip further away with every passing minute.

But just as he closed his eyes in anticipation of death as the bolt released, he heard the familiar clash of metal on metal, as a spinning dagger knocked the bolt off course, implanting itself harmlessly into the ground. Instantly his eyes scanned for his saviour: - Aragorn.

The ranger sped out of the tree line and instantly the Uruk abandoned the more tame sport of trying to finish off the man of Gondor in favour of trying to kill the rather incensed ranger.

They dodged out of his line of sight, the ranger steadily gaining a small advantage over the huge Uruk, but Boromir could not allow himself to worry about the outcome now. The ranger was a skilled swordsman, Elven trained, if he could not finish off one orc, no matter its size, then he would not be Aragorn.

Scrambling for a foothold, he froze even as he felt the shaky stone under one leg giving way, leaving him dangling with one foot clutching at nothing, and with his hands fast losing their grip on the ledge. Looking down, he eyed the churning waters of the Falls of Rauros with no little fear and trepidation. He had always thought that he would either triumph over the shadow that plagued his lands and die old and grey, or be slain in battle. Somehow, getting hit with arrows and then drowning because he could not pull himself back up did not have quite the same heroic ring to it.

Keeping himself still, he resigned himself to the fact that without help, he would be food for whatever fish foraged in the river. Now, if Aragorn would only just hurry up!

Nearly ten gut-wrenching minutes later, during which Boromir had slipped so much as to not be able to see over the edge onto the hill itself anymore, a shaggy dark-haired head became visible. "Boromir!" Aragorn cried at the sight of the proud man of Gondor clinging to the side of a cliff.

But Boromir could see the shale giving way under Aragorn's feet, the clay hitting him as it crumbled, and he could not allow the man to go to his death as well. Not when it was within his power to do more for the White City than Boromir ever could.

"No!" he cried, "Do not come any closer! The ground gives way, Aragorn!"

The ranger shook his head stubbornly, "We must get you up, give me your hand," he said, starting to move closer.

But this time even the ranger could not ignore the precariousness of the situation that they now found themselves in. If Aragorn came forward one more step, then he and Boromir would plummet to their untimely deaths.

Aragorn shook his head, refusing to give up, "No. There must be a way!"

Boromir sighed, "There is none," he said, "I have done great evil this day, son of Arathorn, and this is my penance it seems. The Uruks took the little ones. Merry and Pippin fought them, but could not win."

"Stay still." Aragorn ordered, seeing Boromir fall another half foot.

"It is no use," Boromir said, trying to impart the inevitable to the ranger, but then he speared the older man with his gaze, wondering how he had not marked it before. How could the ringbearer have dealt with the Uruks that swarmed the green? "Frodo. Where is Frodo?" he asked urgently.

Aragorn looked older than his years as he replied, "I let Frodo go."

Boromir nodded then, with a small smile, "Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him, Aragorn. I failed in my duty, my pledge, my sworn word, and I am deeply sorry." he said, pleading for this last forgiveness.

"The Ring is beyond our reach now." Aragorn said, "Frodo has left the company."

Boromir's eyes clouded with shame, "Forgive me. I did not see it. I did not believe its treachery was so foul. I have failed you all."

Aragorn tried to give all the comfort he could without moving, "No, Boromir." he said softly, "You fought bravely. You have kept your honour. It has not deserted you. You overcame the Ring's pull in the end. You have kept your honour, Boromir, son of Denethor."

Again, he tried to reach the man, but Boromir knew there would be no saving him now. "Leave it! It is over. The world of Men will fall. And all will come to darkness. The shadow shall consume all." he said in despair, "And my city to ruin…"

Aragorn shook his head sadly, "I do not know what strength is in my blood." he said softly, but with conviction, his eyes locked on Boromir's, "But I swear to you, I will not let the White City fall. Nor our people fail. Not while I live."

Boromir smiled and saw what he had refused to see all along. That Aragorn was perhaps the man to restore the glory of Gondor and return the hope to his people, "Our people." he said, trying out the word, "Our people…"

"If you should see my brother, Faramir," Boromir said tremulously, "Tell him that I am sorry that I could not come back to him. A heavy burden now falls to him, I fear. Aragorn, I would have followed you, my brother. My captain. My king…." he said the words that he had refused to even think for so long.

And then his grip was gone, and he fell into the tumultuous waters of the falls, leaving Aragorn and a newly arrived Legolas and Gimli to mourn his passing.

Hauled back from the crumbling edge by Legolas, Aragorn stared into the water, and mourned the loss of a man who could have been great, and he stared at the only remnants that Boromir left behind; a bloodied cloak, a dented shield, a cloven horn and a broken sword. The only things that spoke of the man's valour now.

"Be at peace, son of Gondor." Aragorn whispered to the wind.

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Buffy was still searching for Boromir when a familiar presence entered her mind, '_Buffy_!' the voice of Galadriel came to her, '_A great evil is about to happen_.'

'_You betcha_,' Buffy replied, '_Boromir tried to take the Ring from Frodo, Aragorn's last known position was being bombarded with orcs, and at last count, I still haven't found Boromir or anyone!_'

'_Boromir's destiny is not yet complete. It is within your power to save him_…' Galadriel said urgently, '_The orcs have defeated him and even now, he flounders in the waters. If you do not hurry, he will drown. He is wounded. He cannot save himself. Go to the Falls, the Dwarf will come to your aid._'

Buffy just blinked, '_You do realise that it's creepy when you seem to know everything, right?_' she said, but then thought of Boromir's plight. Whatever his feelings, he did not deserve that fate. '_I will go_,' she answered, '_And how exactly is Gimli going to help me_?'

'_I will send him to you_,' the Lady said urgently, "_But you must hurry_!'

'_What do I have to do_?' Buffy asked, her feet swiftly carrying her down to the lowest ground near the Falls of Rauros.

'_You are a trained healer_,' came her reply, '_Help him! For I fear that it will be a great evil if he should fall now…_'

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Buffy sped down the steep embankment to the river, and found the Dwarf waiting for her there. He wasted no time, "The Lady Galadriel said I would see you here. A right shock too, lass, I tell you. But now, you have got to fetch that man. Dwarves are not meant for swimming."

"How did you get away from the others?" Buffy asked, quickly stripping her weapons off and her outer tunic and cloak.

"Aragorn and Legolas think that he is already dead," Gimli replied, "I said that I would go look for you before they got worried and beat a trail back here."

Buffy nodded, and then started to wade into the river, "Wish me luck in Boromir-hunting!" she said and then she dove into the raging current of the river, and started swimming, leaving the Dwarf to stand watch on the bank.

Buffy felt the sharp chill of the frigid water seep into her very bones, but she pushed it out of her mind and reached out to the waiting presence of Galadriel, '_Where is he? Which way?_' she demanded.

With the detailed directions from the Lady of the Wood, Buffy pushed towards the falls, letting the current carry her until she saw the shape of a man bobbing in the water. She had found him.

They were barely thirty feet from the roar of the falls when Buffy swam up beside him and locked her arms around the half-unconscious man. Grunting at the weight of him, and the awkwardness of trying to hang onto the much taller and bulkier form of the man, she started to swim backwards, back towards the shore where Gimli waited.

She could not tell if Boromir even knew she was there, but she could see the blood that turned the water red around him, and worried at what wounds had been inflicted on him before his fall. She did not want to save him from drowning, only for him to still die at the hands of orc inflicted wounds.

When the shore was within easy distance, she felt the presence of Galadriel leave her mind, and knew that the Lady had trusted her to ensure that all went well from here on out. She had her instructions, and she knew what she had to do.

Even if Boromir kicked up the biggest temper tantrum since Sauron lost for the first time back in the Second Age.

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When she reached the bank, Gimli was there to help her out and between them they hauled Boromir onto dry ground.

Hurriedly, she moved back the sodden fabric from the man's chest, and inwardly winced at the wounds that were anything but pretty. He had two barbed Uruk crossbow bolts embedded in his shoulder and arm, and he had the beginnings of some heavy bruising on his shield arm.

He had obviously not gone down easily.

But as ugly as the wounds were, what worried her more was the ragged, hoarse breathing of the man. He had swallowed river water, and if she did not get it up, then the infection that would follow would ensure that he did not live long.

Quietly asking Gimli to start a small fire, and to keep the smoke hidden and hand her her pouch of healing herbs, the Dwarf was surprised to see that all of Buffy's usual liveliness melted away to be replaced with the intense concentration of an experienced healer.

"You have done this before," he said, more of a statement than a question.

"For years," Buffy replied, gently but efficiently removing the crossbow bolts from the man, trying to cause as little extra damage as possible, and cleaning them before wrapping them in thick bandages. She placed a bowl of water with next to the injured man, and ignoring the quiet presence of the Dwarf, gave Boromir a thump on the back, not holding back all of her slayer strength.

Even as she rolled him over, he was sputtering and coughing up water and at last, he seemed to be regaining some state of awareness.

"Boromir?" Buffy asked, easing the man up into a sitting position as he expelled the water from his lungs.

He looked at her blearily, and Gimli leaned forward in interest, "B-Buffy?" he croaked, his voice hoarse and raspy.

"Hey buddy," she said, "Nice to see you awake. I had to fish you out earlier, you know."

She was startled when his shield arm grabbed her tunic and hauled her forward, "T-they t-took M-merry and P-pippin!" he said, forcing the words out of his much abused throat.

Buffy gently detangled his grip from her tunic, "We know," she replied soothingly, "But it's time to take care of you first, mister."

Giving him a tonic to soothe his sore lungs and throat, she tended him to half an hour with Gimli's faithful help before he recovered a modicum of strength. She could practically feel the time slipping away, if she and Gimli did not return soon, the others would come looking for them, and they would have enough trouble explaining things as it was.

"Boromir," Buffy said urgently, as Gimli doused the fire, "I have a task for you. Lady Galadriel has spoken to me; she says that you are to go to her in Lórien. You must leave as soon as you are able."

"I cannot leave the little ones to pain and torment!" Boromir rasped, "I failed in my duty towards them. I must go after them!"

"You must go. Or else she foresees doom for the White City. We will find Merry and Pippin, don't worry, but you have to go."

The Dwarf nodded his agreement, "Aye, lad, we will find them. And skin the orcs that carried them off!"

"Your people need you," Buffy told Boromir. "Guard your city in the way set out for you, be a leader for your people after your task is done, but remember the King is coming and you shall have to make way else all is lost. This is your path, and you must follow it."

"I would be proud to serve such a King." Boromir said quietly, eyes cast down in shame, "Aragorn has proven himself far nobler and a more capable leader than I."

"You're a good man Boromir. Isildur himself fell to the Ring. Hey, the entire island of Númenor did, so you're in illustrious company. Trust me, you will prove to be a good leader. But your father shall not."

He looked at her, "Of what do you speak?"

"You know of what I speak," Buffy said, eyes intent, "He is not fit to rule and I would not trust him not to lead Gondor into ruin. But listen here, you must go to Galadriel and tell her that I said that the land of Rohan will fall unless they get some timely reinforcements. If I know her, she will know what I mean. You are also to tell her to gather the Dúnedain and make them ride to Aragorn. We are going to need all the help we can get. And to tell Elrond to bring the sceptre and Arwen's banner. The return of the king is coming after all. Got all that?"

"But why?" Boromir asked, trying to digest her orders.

"Because I've got a very bad feeling about the future," Buffy replied, "And because Aragorn's too stubborn to send for his kinsmen himself. I am not going to see him die because of sheer pride and stupidity. And Boromir, we will tell none of your journey."

If anything, Boromir looked even more puzzled, "Why? What is there to hide?"

"Your life, Boromir son of Finduilas," she said, "Your life. The Shadow does not hunt for dead men. It will be safer for all involved if you are believed dead. Galadriel will tell you your path in the Golden Wood. Head for Lothlórien, Boromir. The Lady is expecting you. And I daresay that Haldir will be stalking about waiting for you too."

She handed him his cloak, and the pack that Gimli had brought down with him, "Your horn is cloven and your shield useless, I am sorry but they could not be saved." she said as she handed him his belongings.

But as they all stood and made ready to depart, Boromir surprised her as he went down on one knee before her, "As you command, my lady, so do I obey." he said formally, ignoring Buffy's shell-shocked expression.

His lips curved up into a sly smile, "It is an honour to obey my future Queen."

And with that and Gimli's whoop of laughter, he set off, leaving Buffy to stand there, wondering where the hell that had come from and how she would get him back.

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Ithilien, Gondor, 3019 TA, February 26.

Faramir, second son of Denethor, was taking watch near the banks of the Anduin, in the fair province of Ithilien.

Captain of the Ithilien Rangers he was, and here in this fair green land, he was freer from the fetters of his father than he ever was in the walled city of Minas Tirith. The rangers that served with him had taken to resting during the day now, for during the night, the foul things of Mordor marched and 'twas their duty to ensure that none left this land alive if they could help it. A futile goal perhaps, for there were always more orcs and servants of the Dark Lord than there were men of Gondor.

It had been this way for as long as he could remember.

As Captain, he need not have taken a watch, but he refused to shirk his duty. It was as much his as it were his men's. Moreover, he had heard enough critiques from his father to even chance that a whisper might reach him that the youngest lord of Gondor was shirking his duty.

All was quiet, and the land showed no sign of the darkness that plagued it, and so it came to be that the majority of his watch was uneventful. Indeed, his thoughts had turned to other matters, to subjects of equipment and strategy when a faint sound split the air.

A horn blew with the north wind, the sound as familiar to him as the feel of his own sword. Instantly, he sprang to his feet but the other rangers slept on undisturbed.

The horn blew again, but it did not sound as if its source was nearby. Rather it seemed to him to be but a dim sound, a shadow of its usual force, as if it was only an echo in his mind. But he knew that horn; his brother's horn and he could not suppress the skittering unease that overtook him with the sound.

Carefully, he crept forward, and as he moved, he felt strangely drawn to the glistening River Anduin and he heeded the call. Foresight was not unknown to him or his line, but such a waking dream as this… He could not help but be wary, not when every fibre of his being told him that the wind carried ill tidings.

He watched the swift moving river, saw the reeds of the bank rustling in the wind, and he kept his gaze locked on the twinkling ribbon of water before him.

As he watched, it seemed to him that he saw a boat floating on the water, a boat of shimmering grey wood, of strange fashion with a high prow but it glowed faintly, so much so that he could not help but doubt the truth his eyes perceived.

The Enemy came in many guises, he knew, and he was too long a warrior, and in his heart a scholar, to trust in something that could be a trick of the enemy. He might be only the lesser, ill-favoured son of the Steward, but the Shadow rarely discriminated against anyone when it decided to end a line with the dark embrace of death.

As it came closer, he saw indeed that his eyes had not failed him and that the boat moved with no one to row or steer it.

A pale light was around it, casting a glimmering grey light on the water around it.

Almost without thought, he began to move and waded into the water. He knew not what had overcome him, but he knew that he had to see this out. As he waded, he noticed that the boat turned towards him, coming right at him, and he stopped still, watching as it began to float slowly by, almost within his reach. Almost.

But his heart misgave him, and he wondered whether to dare to handle it or not. The boat lay deep in the water, for all its elegance, as if it bore a heavy burden, hidden within where he could not see. However, it was only when it moved closer and began to pass him that he saw that the boat was filled with clear water, the strange light seeming to emanate from it, and within its embrace, a warrior lay asleep.

He chocked back a shocked cry, unwilling to believe what his eyes were telling him. Oh no… not Boromir… not Boromir….

He did not want to believe it, but the face and garb of the warrior within the boat were that of his beloved older brother, his once vibrant face now pale and cold with the cast of death.

He forced himself to look past his pain, the fires of vengeance beginning to burn in his breast, a near foreign emotion to him. A broken sword lay on Boromir's knee, and blood stained his clothes in many places. Bruising showed clearly on his arms, and his shield was broken and dented almost beyond repair.

He could not deny the tool working of Gondor, nor his brother's gear and garb. Only his horn was missing, the very one that had sounded only minutes before. And he noticed that his brother now wore a fair piece of craftsmanship around his waist, a belt of linked golden leaves.

He could not hold back his despair; "Boromir!" he cried in dismay and heartbreak, "Where is thy horn? Whither goest thou? O Boromir!" he cried, reaching for the boat but as he gained enough presence of mind to try to halt the boat, it seemed to speed up, until it was out of his reach, passing away down the river, and the strange cloudlike fog that had enveloped him abruptly left him, leaving him lucid once more.

And though despair threatened to choke him, he could not deny the verity of what he had seen. Dreamlike it was, and yet no dream, for there was no waking. He could not doubt that Boromir of Gondor was dead, and his body now passed down the river to the sea beyond.

He did not know how long he stood there, in the cold waters of the Anduin, oblivious to his surroundings and his neglected watch. In truth, he scarcely cared.

He had just lost the only person who had accepted him completely for what he was; lore-master and warrior, a killer with a soft heart, of strong convictions but little voice; of his need to prove himself and following that, his constant failure to win the regard of his sire. Only Boromir had ever openly accepted all facets of him, had not ridiculed him for being different to their father's wishes.

And now Boromir, the Heir, Captain of the White Tower was dead… lost in some place he knew not.

How in Arda would Gondor survive this loss… and a father's grief…?

From behind him, he vaguely heard the sound of movement, and then the hesitant voice of one of his rangers, "Captain Faramir?" he called, "What do you do in the river?"

When Faramir did not reply, the man called again, "Are you well, my lord? My lord?"

But Faramir did not answer, and nor did he move and his gaze remained fixed on the last place he had seen the boat bearing his much loved brother away…. And trapping him in the madness that ensued.

For Denethor trusted him not, and with Boromir gone, who was to lead the people of Gondor when the shadow's strike fell at last?

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Luckily for Buffy and Gimli, Aragorn and Legolas had been too engrossed in sending Boromir's empty funeral boat downriver in tribute to the fallen man than marking the passage of time.

Buffy and Gimli, at the suggestion of Galadriel, had agreed to keep the news of Boromir's survival to themselves, wanting to keep him safe on his road. Neither of them was going to enlighten the Elf and man to the news any sooner than they had to.

Even Gimli was wary of Legolas's accuracy with a bow.

But as they made their way back to the boats, the Elf espied the figures of Frodo and Sam disappearing into the foliage of the opposite shore, and immediately, he grabbed the boat as if to push off, "Hurry! Frodo and Sam have already reached the eastern shore! We must catch them!"

Aragorn made no move, and neither did Buffy, even though Gimli stepped forward, only stopping when he saw the expression on the ranger's face. Legolas looked back at the man's sigh and his sharp eyes fixed on him, "You mean not to follow them." he said blankly.

Aragorn's expression was sad, "I am afraid that Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands." he said quietly, evidently torn by his own decision even as he spoke.

Gimli, even though he had met Frodo and heard his admission, but only then truly accepted that they had failed in their task, "Then it has all been in vain. The Fellowship has failed. What are we to do?"

Aragorn looked at him sharply at those words, "The fellowship has not failed, Gimli son of Glóin. Not if we hold true to each other." he said, placing his hands on Legolas and Gimli's shoulders. Behind him, Buffy smirked; the man could deny being kingly all he wanted but he sure acted like it.

Gimli just looked at the man with something akin to hope.

Aragorn looked in the opposite direction to the river, the direction that the Uruk-hai had gone. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. To leave them in the hands of the Uruk-hai without any hope of aid, would be a tremendous wrong," he said, "Not while we have strength left. We must go to their aid while we can. Frodo and Sam's errand is now their own. Leave all that can be spared behind." he ordered, "We travel light. Let us hunt some Orc!"

Gimli clutched his axe and would have almost hopped if it was not too undignified for a Dwarf, and growled, "YES!!!" as he strode off after Aragorn.

Buffy and Legolas exchanged small long-suffering smirks at their travel companions' antics, before they too ran off after the ranger with a mission.

And as Buffy and Legolas easily loped off and overtook the Dwarf, who looked as if he was having second thoughts about this running business, the slayer and the Dwarf of Erebor shared a secret smile of their own, and their thoughts turned to the man who even now struggled on towards the relative safety of the wood of Lothlórien, to Galadriel's care.

A man who had fallen, but had gotten up again, and had done what was right at his own expense. Buffy could sympathise. After all, how many times had she done something similar?

And outpacing Aragorn, to scout the ground ahead, Legolas wondered at their secrecy, and speculated at its cause, wondering what plot the two were hatching up now. He had noticed their closeness over the past days and the significant glances shared between them, and had long wondered as to its cause.

Just what could the Dwarf and Dagnir be up to with the grief of Boromir's death and Merry and Pippin's abduction hanging over them?

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Lothlórien, 3019 TA, February 26.

Deep in the woods of her realm, Galadriel looked at the now still surface of her mirror and shuddered.

Something had happened that she had not foreseen.

The man of Gondor was coming to her, as she had hoped she would. She had much desired to change his fate, seeing still some part to play in the future, but she could not have been sure that even Dagnir would succeed.

But the man was coming to her, and hopefully, she could guide him on the path to prevent a disaster that might turn the course of the war for ill. It had to be him. The Enemy could not predict the efforts of dead men.

Buffy would hopefully ensure that Aragorn stayed through to his path, but she feared that even the necessary disclosure of the bond between slayer and ranger, hervess and hervenn, might do harm to their already shaky relationship. But she had had no choice; she could not have allowed the young shieldmaiden of Rohan to turn his head when such a thing existed.

The slayer may have preferred the shadows of secrecy, but Galadriel thought that the news might just be enough to allow Aragorn to match his wiles against the slayer. On even ground this time.

Even now the pieces were moving, the board was set. The war would start in earnest and the hammer blow would fall on the world of Men first.

After all, Sauron did not yet know of the miracle of the Three.

A grim smile came over her fair face as she thought on what she knew would come. The Dark Lord would assail her fair wood of Lórien, coming upon it with fire and steel, but he would find something he did not expect. For the first time in two ages, the fury of Nenya would be unleashed. She almost looked forward to the payback for millennia of heartache. Almost.

And the tantrum that she might be able to coax out of Thranduil should provide her with entertainment for the next century when she told him of her plans to raze Dol Guldur to the ground.

But her mind now turned south, to what had shocked even her. A new power was rising. And not just the filth of Saruman. Something else stalked about within the borders of the Black Land.

Elrond felt it too. And warnings from two of the Wise were not to be discarded lightly. She only hoped that it would not hinder the fellowship.

She hoped, but she knew that it was already on its way…

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A/N: So? Opinions please! Feedback wanted! Is everyone happy that Boromir lived? Please **READ **and **REVIEW!!!!**

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Next chapter: The hunters are in pursuit… Boromir gets some counsel… and the hunters get some unexpected visitors in the night….

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Elvish:

Athelas - Kingsfoil

Dúnedain - Men of the West

Dagnir - slayer

Hervess - wife

Hervenn - husband

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Ithilien - territory of Gondor, east of Anduin. In the earliest time the possession of Isildur and ruled from Minas Ithil.

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Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Parth Galen - 'Green Sward'.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	39. The Fires of Heaven Part 1

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: welcome to the Two Towers! Sorry for the delay, but Real Life intervened with a band AND I got food poisoning. So not a happy week.

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FAQ: What was up with Faramir's vision?

It was tainted due to Faramir's proximity to Mordor, and the shadow that was over the land of Ithilien. He saw one of his own worst fears.

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Review responses:

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Allen Pitt - no, not a villain from the Buffy-verse. Good idea about the palantír though.

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Ally - (sighs) yeah, I know that I'm _so_ late but let's just say that Real Life intervened.

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Anna - 'Bonding secret explosion' is a good way of putting it. A very good way. But yes, waiting is probable. For Faramir's vision, see FAQ. And you are on the right track with the evil. Good guessing! Okay, Frodo and Sam's journey will probably get passing mention but I will not be focusing on them until they reach Mount Doom, some time around them anyway. I tend to find Frodo and Sam a bit of a pain to write.

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Anyanka of the Ocean - hi! Okay, just to clear things up, Boromir was not in Gondor. Faramir had a Sauron induced vision of him dead, with enough truth thrown in to make it seem real.

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Dreamer Child - thanks! Yes, the Three Rings plot should be a very interesting one. Oh, if only you knew what I had planned. Suffice it to say that I am cackling. And don't worry; I'm planning to drop plenty of Buffy/Aragorn crumbs. I know there wasn't much in the last two chapters, but I felt that Boromir's 'death' deserved some attention. And who are the Steelers?

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Emerald sorceress - a lot of people liked that line and so did I!

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FallenStar2 -Thanks! And yeah, I think my muse is Morgoth in disguise. And no one said that Boromir's path was going to be easy. Let's just hope he survives it now, shall we? However, as I think Osgiliath is overrun before the siege of Gondor, Boromir probably will not be able to claim it back again. Messy in Rohan? Ahh, the angst, the drama, the misunderstandings, the battles… a definite must see. And how did you know that Éowyn was going to be inspiring some reactions from Buffy over Aragorn? Ad I like twisting things about. You can never know what simple little comment I could use to spark off a completely new plot twist! I'm quirky that way. Buffy has only bound herself to Aragorn in reference to a person anyway. And you are right; the evil is not from Umbar. I got a little creative with it. If anyone actually guesses before it is upon them, then I will be very surprised. And Boromir called Buffy his 'Queen' because of what he expects her to be in the future.

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Goldenshadows - thanks! Well, technically Aragorn has not had much of a chance to talk to Buffy anyway privately yet. Besides, he is catching onto the Elven sneakiness of certain matchmakers. He's not about to give up his advantage until it is time to strike! Yeah, about the French translation, well let's just say that I really need to practice my French for my exams, so I thought why not? And you are right; it is no longer fifty chapters. Closer to the sixty mark anyway!

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Kit-Kat - yes, wizards always speak in riddles. I think they find it amusing.

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Lady of the Wood - I am going to mostly keep to Buffy and the rest of the fellowship. Sam and Frodo's journey is going to be much the same as the books so I am not going to regurgitate it for no real purpose. Yes, Merry and Pippin will be featured. For Faramir's vision, see FAQ. Aragorn never liked liked Éowyn. He kinda pitied her and admired her strength. She was the one with the huge crush.

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Light Spinner - thanks! In addition, Galadriel is going to show someone what a royally infuriated Elf Queen can do. About Faramir's vision, see FAQ. And let's just say that everyone's reaction to Buffy in Rohan should be very interesting!

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Lindiel Erin - that would be because Galadriel has not mentioned what she did not foresee yet.

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Lisette - I do not actually have 'First Knight' written. In fact, I'm not even a chapter ahead. So I can't update twice a week because it is tough enough with exams to try to get even one out a week!

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Lunawolf - you're not the only one. As far as I can tell, everyone's review history has been 'temporarily disabled' for the last two weeks or so.

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Mari - thanks! And I know it was short, but I felt that it had to end there. Or you could have waited another week for chapter 38! And I think Théoden couldn't keep up with Buffy when he was younger, let alone now. But Éowyn, ah yes, the proverbial spanner in the works…

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MiShA - glad you approve! And yes, I think that Gimli is a character that can do serious and humour equally well.

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Nicessus - welcome! And I normally update on Fridays or at the weekend.

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Pamie884 - thanks! And Boromir's path should hopefully be very much unexpected!

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Phoenix83ad - interesting? Definitely. And do not worry about Faramir; he will get everything that is due to him. And yes, love triangle number two is on its way. Poor Éowyn, she won't have a clue that she's stepping onto a minefield! But please do not compare her to Dawn, as she is one of my most detested characters in the Buffy-verse. The girl whines way too much.

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PrecariousPersonata - thanks! For Faramir's vision, see FAQ. But yeah, just a mind trick. You're right; I don't drop spoilers very often. At least not where they can be noticed. And how did you know that I would have it in me to kill other people off?

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Redcristal - listen, I'm very wary of lending out my plots, but before I can come to any decision, I need to know what you plan on copying. My e-mail address is _ashadreamweaver at yahoo dot ie._

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Sabia - CinnamonGrrl's Thranduil is irresistible? Do tell!

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Seraphyne Lastawen - thanks. And please remember that Aragorn was hapless when he was younger. He hasn't been getting into so much trouble as he got older. But remember, he gets to prove himself too.

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ShawThang - thank you so much! And I have big plans for Boromir. He is going to redeem himself so much by the time this fic is over…. For Faramir's vision, see FAQ. And actually, Book One was not as long as you suggested. In this fic, it really only started at chapter 20 so my FotR is only eighteen chapters long. Not exactly little, but more manageable than 38 for each book!

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Star - awww! Thanks!

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Tara6 - I have no idea.

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And major thanks to:

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Andrea35, Annje, Becky, Belligerent-road-pylon, Catgirl Elf Princess, CoopersMcFarley, General Mac, GoldenRat, Haley, Imp17, Iriel, Mr.Spotty1, narmolanya, Night-Owl123, Sukera, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Wild320, zayra,

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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: THE FIRES OF HEAVEN PART ONE

Their pursuit of the hobbits was a dogged one.

Aragorn pushed them on with little rest or food, and as the days went by, Gimli's complaints and umbrage got louder and louder, as he trudged along, stubbornly refusing to admit that he had neither the fleet-footedness of his companions or the stamina over long distance.

A man with a mission, he scoured the land for clues, stopping every once in a while to listen for the groans in the earth that the Uruks left behind. Buffy would just have rathered following the stench they tended to leave behind, but Aragorn had to be sure.

And so that was how it was that Buffy and Gimli got a break while Aragorn did his communicating with stone thing, and Legolas scouted. And of course, the slayer maintained that the ranger was so adept at the skill because the rocks thought his head was one of their own. Said ranger was not amused.

Aragorn finally got up from the ground, and looked at the trio, eyes flitting over Gimli who had been visibly wilting for days. The grave look that so often seemed etched on his face had returned. "Their pace has quickened. I think they must have caught our scent for them to move with such haste. We must hurry!"

Buffy eyed the vast plains of Rohan, and could see no sign, not even a dust cloud, of the large group of Uruk-hai. But what worried her most was that the fold seemed abandoned. Where were the herds? Where were the Rohirrim? It was not like the quick tempered riders of the Mark to let orcs of any kind roam across their land unchallenged. It worried her greatly. But she recognised her friends' burdens, and so kept her silence. She would not add to their cares before she absolutely had to.

Silently falling into a running lope near Gimli, so as to help the stocky Dwarf on, she good-naturedly listened to the Dwarf's, albeit very amusing, complaints.

"Three days and nights' pursuit." Gimli puffed out as he ran, "No food. No rest. And no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell."

Buffy spared him a comforting smile, "Well, at least you'll have one heck of a tale to tell back in Erebor," she said with as much cheerfulness as she could muster, "I would imagine that no other Dwarf has done a cross country orc chase."

The Dwarf glared at her way too innocent smile, and they fell into silence for a number of hours ere Aragorn let out a cry and came to a sudden halt, bending down to pick up something from the ground. Buffy's eyes widened as she saw the familiar brooch of Lórien, smudged with dirt now, but clearly recognisable.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall." Aragorn said, studying the tracks on the ground. "It bodes well."

Legolas brightened a little, "Then they may yet be alive." he said, "Our pursuit is not in vain. And neither was Boromir's sacrifice."

Buffy and Gimli shifted uncomfortably at the mention of the warrior's name, but Aragorn took off again before any could mark it. "They are less than a day ahead of us. Come! Make haste!"

The Dwarf stumbled on some rocks as he tried to scramble behind his rapidly distancing companions, muttering extremely non complimentary words under his breath as he tried to pick up the pace again.

Legolas turned back to see how the Dwarf fared, and waved him on, "Come, Gimli! Hurry! We are gaining on them!" he cried, ignoring the murderous glare of the Dwarf, whose knuckles were white from the grip on his axe.

The Dwarf panted out excuses as he struggled to keep up, for once regretting his heavy armour, "I am wasted on cross-country! We dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over short distances!"

Buffy fell back to keep an eye on him, lighter on her feet than he and with more agility, and so they ran ever onwards, only stopping when they crested a rocky hill to reach a commanding view of the green plains. Aragorn paused to study the landscape, straining to spot the band of Uruk-hai, and allowing Buffy and Gimli time to catch up.

"Hurry, Gimli!" Buffy urged, "We have reached the Riddermark. And we are not too far from Isengard either."

"Rohan. Home of the horse-lords." Aragorn said in wonder, gazing at the empty fields, where there should have been people and horses, "There is something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, and sets its will against us." he said, feeling the malice in the air.

"Of course there is," Buffy said, "Bad guys don't generally want anybody to come to their captives rescue. Especially not wily old wizards."

Aragorn shot her an unreadable look, "Legolas, what do your Elf eyes see?" he called, seeing the Elf on the edge of the outcropping looking northeast.

The Elf turned back to him in alarm, "The Uruks turn northeast. They are taking the hobbits to Isengard! Ai, we cannot catch them in time! They run as if the very whips of their masters were behind them! I know not what has spurred them on so!"

Aragorn glared into the distance, and he growled out, "Saruman." He turned to the slayer, "It seems that your prediction was right, Dagnir. The White Wizard is up to no good. But come, we run!"

Gimli just groaned but Buffy gave him a friendly clap on the shoulder as she forced her own tired legs to move, "Get a move on, mellon. There's no rest for the whining."

The Dwarf glared at her and started panting out his mantra, "Keep breathing! That is the key! Breathe! Ho!"

Buffy just looked at him with concern, "I thought the big ones were supposed to tire more easily." she said. "Or is it just Dwarves? Is your armour that heavy?"

"I am well, lass," Gimli ground out, "I just need to die for a minute."

Buffy, sensing that a Dwarves touchy pride was at stake, wisely backed off, but kept an eye on him all the same. Seeing Aragorn beginning to feel the consequences of his own determination, she determined to get him motivated enough to keep on going. No way was she carrying him. "Come on, Aragorn, don't slow down now. How am I ever going to get anything killed with you lot holding me back like this?"

The look the man gave her was anything but amused, but he did pick up the pace, much to the Dwarf's dismay.

Nevertheless, despite their flagging stamina, all except the Elf anyway, they ran through most of the night, only stopping to catch a few hours sleep to sustain them. But the dawn had barely broke ere Legolas was rousing them urgently, having stood guard while they slept.

"Awake! Awake!" he cried, shaking them as he went, "It is a red dawn. Blood has been spilled this night. Strange things await us by the eaves of the forest. Good or evil, I do not know, but we are called. Awake!"

Buffy and Aragorn shared an equally puzzled look before they followed the Elf to whatever doom the forest now called them to.

-

He slept.

Weary to the bone, heartsick and sore, Boromir had stumbled into the Golden Wood, only to be whisked away to the Lady's halls by Haldir, where he had fallen into a near instantaneous sleep.

And so he dreamed.

-

He was standing on the parapet of a tower in the city of Osgiliath, weary but exultant, and the men gathered below him chanted his name, "Boromir! Boromir!"

Proudly, he raised the flag of Gondor- the White Tree - and planted it in the stone. Holding out his sword, he raised his voice and cried, "This city was once the jewel of our kingdom!" he said with feeling, to finally have reclaimed what the orcs had stolen from his country, "A place of light and beauty and music! And so it shall be once more! Let the armies of Mordor know this! Never again will the land of my people fall into enemy hands! This city of Osgiliath has been reclaimed for Gondor! For Gondor!"

The men roared back, "For Gondor!"

"For Gondor!" he cried, caught up in the moment, savouring the too rare victory.

Again, they shouted back, "For Gondor!"

Later, he was making his way through the streets, when Faramir burst over to him, laughing with joy at the sight of each other and they hugged.

"'Twas a good speech. Nice and short." Faramir said, a wry smirk twisting his lips.

Boromir grinned at his brother's wit and clapped him on the back, "Leaves more time for drinking!" he jested and they laughed together for a moment ere Boromir satisfied his men's wishes, "Break out the ale!" he called, "These men are thirsty!"

Instantly a cheer went up and the men descended on the flagons eagerly.

Boromir filled two cups of ale himself and handed one to Faramir, raising his own in a toast, "Remember today, little brother. Today, life is good." he said and then took a deep drink from his own cup.

Faramir did not answer, instead his eyes were fixed on something in the distance and his face now shuttered. Boromir both wondered at and dreaded its cause. "What?" he said lightly, trying to prolong the rare joviality.

His little brother just looked at him, "He is here." he said, his tone totally blank of any emotion. A skill long practiced in their father's court.

Boromir's head whipped around to look and he inwardly snarled at the familiar figure in the fur outer robe, talking to the men as if he himself had led them to victory, instead of watching and expecting failure. And already causing his brother to withdraw behind a mask. "A moment's peace, can he not give us that?" he said fiercely, startling even Faramir.

Denethor stepped forward into the street, his smile broad and self-satisfied, "Where is he? Where is Gondor's finest? Where is my first-born?" he called.

Boromir grimaced inwardly but stepped forward to greet him with a smile on his face, "Father." he said in welcome as the steward pulled him into a hug.

The elder man looked upon him with no little pride as he pulled back, "They say you vanquished the enemy almost single-handedly."

Boromir shook his head, "They exaggerate, father. The victory belongs to Faramir also."

He gestured for his brother to come out, and so he did, but Denethor's prideful gaze immediately hardened into disdain as his younger son came into view. "But for Faramir this city would still be standing. Were you not entrusted to protect it?" he demanded of the younger man.

Faramir's face betrayed nothing, "I would have done so, but our numbers were too few." he said without apology. Boromir could only watch on silently as the familiar scene replayed itself.

The steward sneered, the expression twisting his face into ugliness, "Oh, too few." he repeated scornfully, "You let the enemy walk in and take it on a whim. Always you cast a poor reflection on me."

Faramir returned that hate filled gaze levelly, "That is not my intent."

Boromir tried to salvage something from the day, but could not help his own anger from overtaking him, "You give him no credit and yet he tries to do your will."

Disgusted, he walked away into a nearby room, unable to witness the discord between honoured father and beloved brother once more. But Denethor followed him. As he always did.

There was silence for a moment, but Boromir did not turn around to look at his lord, "He loves you father." he said softly, "Why can nothing he does ever be enough for you?"

Denethor would hear none of it, "Do not trouble me with Faramir. I know his uses and they are few. We have more urgent things to speak of. Elrond of Rivendell in the north has called a meeting. He will not say why but I have guessed its purpose. And I see why there is need for secrecy. It is rumoured that the weapon of the enemy has been found."

Boromir whipped around in shock, forgetting his anger in the light of this confession. He too knew the lore. "The One Ring…. Isildur's Bane…" he whispered.

His father nodded, malice twisting his features as he spoke of Elrond's folly, "It has fallen into the hands of the Elves. Everyone will try to claim it; Men, Dwarves, Wizards. We cannot let that happen. This thing _must _come to Gondor. I will have it!"

Boromir was startled out of his shock by his father's words. Surely he knew that it was not safe? That the Ring was evil? "Gondor…" He left his thoughts unspoken, but he was unsure whether Gondor was the reason Denethor wanted his enemy's boon and bane so much.

"It is dangerous, I know." Denethor said persuasively, "Ever the Ring will seek to corrupt the hearts of lesser Men. But you, you are strong. And our need is great. It is _our _blood which is being spilled, _our _people who are dying. Sauron is only biding his time. He is massing fresh armies unchallenged. He will return. And when he does, we will be powerless to stop him. You must go to Rivendell. Bring me back this mighty gift."

Boromir stared at his father, and he felt a deep foreboding. He could not leave his people. And not for that cursed thing. He shook his head, "No. My place is here with my people. Not in Rivendell."

Shaken at his father's desire, he left, but Denethor would not leave him alone. "I want you to go to Rivendell, Boromir. Would you deny your own father?" he said coldly.

Faramir stepped forward from the shadows, "If there is need to go to Rivendell, send me in his stead."

However, Denethor would accept nothing that Faramir offered, "You? Oh, I see." he said mockingly, "A chance for Faramir, captain of Gondor, to show his quality. I think not. I trust this mission only to your brother. The one who will not fail me."

But Boromir could only stare at his father, and for the first time saw his greed, and the deep-seated malice he harboured towards those he thought could challenge his position and his power.

And then even as Boromir moved forward to stop him, Denethor lunged at Faramir with a burning brand held high in his hands…

-

A cool hand settled on his forehead, and with a jerk, he came awake.

Startling blue eyes met his; "Welcome to my halls, Boromir," she said, her voice smooth and melodious. But Boromir could not stand her penetrating gaze, and he moved away from her, even confined to the bed as he was.

"You were right," he said bitterly, "Was I not the weakest? Did you not foresee my fall, Lady?"

Galadriel looked at him, "The weak and the strong have fallen to the power of the Ring together, son of Gondor. Do not doubt yourself. 'Tis only those who have something more important to hold onto that can resist the power of the One Ring, and even they not forever. I was as tempted as you were, for Frodo offered it to me willingly. It was not easy for me to turn it away, and I have had many millennia of experience to warn me against its lure."

"But I tried to take it from him!" Boromir said shamefully, "I failed in my oaths."

The Lady of the Wood looked at him sympathetically, "Through Finduilas of Dol Amroth, you have the blood of the Elves in your veins. Do not denounce yourself for your father's mistakes. He has made his choices, and will soon pay the price. You are a worthy man and you have redeemed yourself for your failing with your sacrifice. But war calls you now."

Boromir looked at her, "What do you mean?" he asked warily.

"Dagnir told you that a task was to be appointed to you, did she not?" Galadriel answered, "I have looked into my mirror, and seen doom. Perhaps the doom of all, if it cannot be averted. There are two bastions of Men which are yet free; the country of Rohan and your home of Gondor. If they should fall, then even if all that we wish for should come to pass, and the Ring be destroyed, and Sauron so defeated, then there shall be no dawn for the race of Men, for those loyal to the dark shall overwhelm you, and all that you fight for shall be destroyed. This must not happen." she said fiercely, "I shall not allow it. And you, Boromir, shall help to make sure that Gondor stands."

"You speak in riddles, Lady," Boromir said, "Will you not speak plainly?"

The Lady's expression was a worried and intent one, "I have foreseen the end of your city. It shall be saved once by luck and valour, but the second assault shall come unforeseen, hidden from all. But from within or without, I cannot say. Madness blocks my sight. You must return to your city by the coastal roads, raise an army as you go, and then go to Minas Tirith with all haste and help your future queen and your brother, ere the foes before them take their lives."

"Faramir!" Boromir said urgently, "Tell me not that you have seen his death!"

"Peace, Boromir," she said, "His fate is unclear, and his life or death lies with chance. But it lies with the King for at least part."

"Will Aragorn not hold to his promise? Will he not hold the White City?" he asked.

"Aragorn must choose his own fate, and whether the paths he will choose will enable him to reach Minas Tirith in time, I cannot say. The future is a mysterious thing, and to thwart it is a hard business. I cannot see all ends. I can only try to avert disaster, and hope that by meddling, I do not cause others."

He stared at her, "You are afraid," he said in wonder, as the Elf Lady suddenly seemed more approachable to his eyes, and less incomprehensible.

She looked at him, "Aye, I am. Who cannot be so when the war to end an age comes? Will you accept this task, Boromir? Will you follow this path?"

He looked at her, and then thought on her words, and his heart burned with anger that his city would fall, and his little brother with it. The glory of the Gondor of old, never to return, as his home was polluted with orcs, Southrons and Easterlings. There could only be one answer.

"I will do it."

-

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Rohan, 3019 TA, February 30.

They had not long been in Rohan when they heard the sound of pounding hooves coming closer. Instantly, they dived behind a large group of boulders, out of sight.

"Are you sure we should be skulking, Aragorn?" Buffy asked, "The Rohirrim don't tend to like skulkers. In fact, they tend to shoot them. It's a habit they have."

Aragorn just shot her a look that said all too clearly that they were playing this his way. And though annoyed, she let him. He would after all, have to learn to lead by himself if he was to be king. And by then, she would not be around to give him the benefit of slayer experiences.

A large group of riders blasted by, banners waving and spear-points glinting in the sun. And even as she moved to caution him, Aragorn had already left the shelter of the rocks and shouted, "Riders of Rohan, what news from the Mark!"

Instantly, even as Buffy scrambled to catch up to the trio, the riders wheeled around on them, horses racing as they surrounded them in a tight circle, the Riders who did not have bows drawn had spears pointed at them.

Even as Buffy shot Aragorn a scathing glare for this show of greatness, and pulled up the hood of her cloak to cover her face; the lead rider, face covered by his helmet, moved closer, and looked at them in barely disguised wonder. Both the fair folk, and the mountain folk were the things of children's tales to most of the Rohirrim.

"What business does an Elf, a man, a woman and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!" he commanded, and the Dwarf visibly bristled at his scornful and suspicious tone.

Gimli's hands clenched around his axe and he glared at the man, "Give me your name, Horsemaster, and I shall give you mine." he growled.

Buffy inwardly winced as the man handed his staff to another rider, and dismounted, approaching the Dwarf. She saw Aragorn place a restraining hand on Gimli's shoulder, but she felt that he might be discounting the effect of combining a Dwarf's insulted ire with the rather legendary tempers of the Rohirrim.

The man just let his own glower pierce the Dwarf, as he said derisively, "I would cut off your head, Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground."

Even as Buffy whirled at the sound of a bow being drawn, Legolas had an arrow nocked and pointed at the man's throat ere she could stop him. "You would die before your stroke fell!" he said with certainty.

Instantly, the riders closed about them, and the threatening spears were now pointed at his neck. Buffy stood stock still, trying to figure out a way of avoiding some fighting, while Aragorn managed to push down Legolas's arm, causing him to lower his bow.

Aragorn held his arms out in a gesture of peace, "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, of the Dúnedain, also called Strider. This is Gimli, son of Glóin, Buffy of the North, and Legolas of the Woodland realm. We are friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king."

The man's sharp gaze rested on Buffy, who tried to hide beneath her hood. She had not exactly changed much since her last visit to Rohan, and she really did not want to open up that old can of worms.

His gaze passed over her, and he removed his helmet, "Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe. Not even his own kin."

Comprehension came quickly to Buffy. Théoden had few kinsfolk living and this man was too young to be Prince Théodred, and that left but one- Éomund's son. He had somewhat of the look of the marshal about him.

She lowered her hood, and stepped forward, drawing his attention, "Éomer?" she asked, seeing his eyes widen in recognition, "Éomund's son? I am Buffy, known to the Rohirrim as Elliandre; I rode with the Riders of the Mark under your father many years ago. Do you not remember me from your childhood? I am no spy."

Éomer looked at her in wonder, "Do all the tales spring from legend? For you look like Elliandre, but she would be much older by now. Much older."

"The blood of the west ages but slowly," Buffy said vaguely, thinking on how Théoden would react to her if this was how Éomer was acting. "And I remember well how you got into trouble for stealing the cook's blueberry pie. I think you'll agree that few know about your escapades back then."

"Elliandre was banished from the Mark," he said warily, "Banished for being a spy, I believe?" his tone was heavy with suspicion.

"Banished by Gríma Wormtongue," Buffy replied calmly, ignoring her companion's stares, "I had hoped that you would have had more sense than to believe his word, son of Éomund."

A small signal from Éomer, and the spears were withdrawn, "Aye, that much is true," he said after a moment, "But you understand that I cannot allow strangers to pass these lands without leave in these dark times."

"Your time would be better spent preparing for Saruman's betrayal, rather than harassing innocent travellers," Buffy replied, "Is he not the greater danger?"

The man grimaced, "Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claims lordship over his lands. My company are those who are loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets."

Aragorn spoke up then, "We are not spies. We intend no evil to Rohan, nor to any of its folk, neither to man, nor to horse. Will you not hear our tale before you strike?"

"I will," Éomer answered, "But wanderers in the Riddermark would be wise to be less haughty in these days of doubt. We welcomed guests kindly in the better days, but in these times, the unbidden stranger finds us swift and hard. Come! Whom do you serve? At whose command do you hunt orcs in our land? For Elliandre here was reported to be a witch of Dwimordene, and her company is strange. Even if you are who you claim to be, ranger."

Aragorn did not take offence, he knew his roughshod appearance was not lordly as to go with his lineage, "I serve no man, but the servants of Sauron I pursue into whatever land they may go." he said, "We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive and we pursue them where they go."

Éomer's gaze softened slightly, "The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night."

Gimli gasped, "But there were two hobbits?" he said urgently, "Did you see two hobbits with them?"

Aragorn tried to calm him, "They would be small – only children to your eyes." he explained.

Éomer shook his head, and his expression was pitying, "We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them." he said, and pointed into the distance, where the hunters could see smoke rising into the sky.

Gimli seemed almost lost for words, "Dead?" he asked softly.

Éomer nodded, "I am sorry." Legolas silently placed his hand on the stricken Dwarf's shoulder, his own face taut with grief.

Aragorn refused to believe it, "We have had a long journey, are we now to find that it has been in vain?" he said, "Through Lórien we came, and thence down the leagues of the Great River to the falls of Rauros. There Boromir was slain by the same orcs whom you destroyed."

"Your news is all of woe!" cried Éomer in dismay, his stony face showing his alarm at the news, for what beset Gondor would oft spread to the Riddermark as well, "Great harm is this death to Minas Tirith, and to us all. He was a worthy man! All spoke his praise. He came seldom to the Mark, for he was ever in the wars on the East-borders; but I have seen him. More like to the swift sons of Eorl than to the grave Men of Gondor he seemed to me, and likely to prove a great captain of his people when his time came. But we have had no word of this grief out of Gondor? When did he fall?"

"It is now the fourth day since he was slain," Aragorn replied quietly, "And since the evening of that day we have journeyed from the shadow of Tol Brandir."

"On foot?" Éomer asked, staring at them anew.

"Yes, even as you see us." Buffy said.

Éomer's eyes widened slightly, "Strider is too poor a name, son of Arathorn," he said, with little jest, "Wingfoot I name you. This deed of the four friends should be sung in many a hall. Forty leagues and five you have measured ere the fourth day is ended! Hardy is the race of Elendil!" he added, knowing that no ordinary man could have done as such.

But his wonder passed swiftly, and the hard lines returned to his face, "But now, lord, what would you have me do? I must leave in haste, for we are pursued by Wormtongue's spies. I spoke warily before my men. We are not yet at open war with the Black Land, and there are some, close to the king's ear, that speak craven counsels; such that banished us, but war is coming. We shall not forsake our old alliance with Gondor, and while they fight, we shall aid them; so say I and all who hold with me. The East-mark is my charge, the ward of the Third Marshal, and I have removed all our herds and herd folk, withdrawing them beyond Entwash, and leaving none here but guards and swift scouts."

"Then that is why the land is empty," Buffy mused, "But what of your defences? Is nothing being prepared?"

"The King believes that Saruman is our ally," Éomer replied, "And not even the counsel of his own kin can sway him. Rohan prepares for nothing save what I do. But the time has come for us to depart, but your pursuit is a valiant one and I shall aid you." He turned and whistled, "Hasufel! Arod! Linseld!" And three horses trotted up, "May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters. Farewell!" he said as he replaced his helmet and mounted his horse.

"Look for your friends." he said as he turned Firefoot, "But do not trust to hope, it has forsaken these lands. We ride north!" he called to his men, and they departed in a thunder of hooves, leaving the hunters to turn and gaze at the smoke coming from away.

-

The hunters were angling across the plains towards Fangorn Forest, when Aragorn allowed his mount to fall back into step with Buffy's.

"You never told me that you were banished," he said, eyeing her clearly uncomfortable stance.

"I don't have to tell you everything, Aragorn," Buffy replied wearily, "Can we please not talk of this right now?"

"You never want to talk, Buffy," he replied, "You do your best to avoid me, even when we are forced into close quarters, and you are distant from me as you have never been before."

"And did you ever think that perhaps my personal business is none of your business, Aragorn?" Buffy replied testily, "You cannot know everything."

"Oh, I am well aware of that, Dagnir," Aragorn said, thinking of the secrets she had kept and still kept from him, "But I wonder at your cold heart. There was a time when I knew warmth from you rather than this chill."

"There was a time when you didn't have stupid ideas in your head," she said in return, "And I so don't want to get into this now. Merry and Pippin may be dead; do you really think this is an appropriate place for this discussion? Not to mention that Legolas can hear what we say as clearly as if we were right alongside him."

"As you wish it," Aragorn replied, "Even if I do think that you get your way overmuch lady. Tell me of your time in Rohan instead."

Hazel eyes narrowed menacingly, "You have been taking lessons from Elrond," she said after a moment, "But that trick seldom worked with me, ranger. You would do well not to try it."

"Why? Can I make you any madder than you already seem to be with me? Do I really deserve this treatment? I have been nothing but honest with you."

"You have only offered me dreams built on foundations of quicksand, Aragorn," Buffy said quietly, "I am not such a fool as to accept them. I might have once, but I have grown up Aragorn. And I know all too well that the world isn't fair, but I'm not about to help myself be screwed. Do not speak to me of this again. And if we go to Rohan, keep that mouth of yours shut. When I left, 'Elliandre' was not held in high regard by the King or his advisors."

"Buffy, you cannot keep running."

"Aragorn, if I was running, I'd have left with Sam and Frodo, or taken my own path when the fellowship broke. Do not chasten me for being realistic." Nudging her horse into a faster pace, she settled in beside Legolas and Gimli upon Arod, where Aragorn would not challenge her again.

Yet.

-

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A/N: Well? Feedback wanted please! Please **READ **and **REVIEW!**

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Next chapter: The hunters encounter more than a few surprises in Fangorn… the White Wizard stalks them… some interesting scenes between Buffy and Aragorn…

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Elvish:

Dagnir - slayer

Mellon - friend

Dúnedain - men of the West

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Dwimordene - the name in Rohan for the Golden Wood of Lothlórien. It has generally been villainised by superstition, old wives' and soldiers' tales of the Lady who dwells there, and how she weaves her spells with sorcerers and net-weavers. All completely untrue, but none of the Rohirrim have ever gone near the Wood and they fear it.

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Éomer - son of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2991. Has lived with Théoden King since his parents death 3002.

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Éomund of Eastfold - Chief Marshal of the Mark. Would go on to be brother-in-law to Théoden King of Rohan and father to Éomer and Éowyn.

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Éowyn - daughter of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2995. Has lived with Théoden King since her parents death 3002.

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Théodred - Son of King Théoden of Rohan, slain in the First Battle of the Fords of Isen.

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	40. The Fires of Heaven Part 2

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Aragorn and Buffy's strained relationship ever be resolved? What will Aragorn do with the information, the secret, which he now knows? What has Arwen planned? In addition, what will happen when the Three rise up in fury? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty when she's now the hunted? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And what path does Boromir now follow?

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Author's notes: Well, I would like to mark a milestone! I am now over the 300,000 word limit! Yay! But wow, who ever thought it would get so long? This has evolved into novel length. Current count - 532 pages!

In addition, this chapter is, by request, longer than the previous! Over nine thousand words! And wish me luck; I just had my Biology mock final exam! Aaahh!

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Review responses:

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Allen Pitt - I would never bring those three clowns into my fic. And somehow, I do not think any of the Nine could weasel out of it that easily.

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - oh, the twins will be making plenty more appearances. They come back into the story with a bang for RotK! And let me just say that I'm already cackling!

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Anna - thanks! Moreover, I am trying to avoid the Buffy/Angel ending. And don't worry when they do get together, I plan to make it memorable.

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Anyanka of the Ocean - now where would you get that idea from?…

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Dreamer Child - definitely do not follow American football. I'm Irish, so all the way on the other side of the Atlantic!

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GoldenRat - yes, she will see Éowyn. A little hard to avoid her actually…

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Haley Éowyn happy to have back up? I should think so!

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Kit-Kat - thanksÉowyn remember her? I should certainly think her. But let's just say that that girl is going to cause a lot of trouble… and I am glad you like the Boromir storyline. I have a great many plans for that guy.

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Laughing Cat - wow! Thanks! And yes, another debacle between Glorfindel and Buffy would be very interesting!

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Light Spinner - thanks! And who is going to get Galadriel mad? Should be an interesting sight. And as for Boromir liking Buffy better, well she's not exactly the one supplanting him now is she? Less of a competitive streak there.

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Lindiel Eryn - When? Well, not until Aragorn has his fun first. Payback… ah yes, such a sweet thing….

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Lunawolf - yes, Arwen appearing would be interesting. About the Éowyn/jealousy thing, I am actually thinking of putting a twist on that. Beware…

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Murdock - why, thank you! You are right, definitely not Tolkien. Not even English.

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PrecariousPersonata - There will be a change around in this chapter. Boromir? A wife? When? How? I did not mention a wife!

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Seraphyne Lastawen - thank you! The pictures were absolutely brilliant:) And yes, the story will go all the way up to the Return of the King. And sorry, but to chop it into a trilogy would be just too much hassle. Especially since I have a sequel planned for this fic as it is.

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ShawThang - thanks! I hope you like this one as well! And yes, Aragorn's interest in Buffy's undisclosed leave-taking of Rohan is a definite bone of contention.

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Spidey-phd - I know what you mean. Do not worry though; I plan to spice things up a bit. Or a lot.

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Star - No, Buffy has never really been inside Fangorn before.

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Tenshikoneko03 - that would be a secret now, wouldn't it?

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And major thanks to:

BB, dustin the fan fic critic, General Mac, jumping-jo, Mari, Night-Owl123, Pamie884, Siren's Call, Stix89, Sukera, Tara6, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Wild320,

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CHAPTER FORTY: THE FIRES OF HEAVEN PART TWO

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"Life for most of us is a continuous process of getting used to things we hadn't expected."

- unknown

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Fangorn Forest, 3019 TA, February 30.

The silence was so stifling that Buffy thought she would scream.

The ride to Fangorn was not a long one, and yet every minute seemed stretched out eternally as the uneasy quiet endured. Aragorn was not speaking to her, and Legolas and Gimli knew well enough that a fight had taken place, and so their silence was a wary one.

For her part, she knew that she had not been fair to Aragorn, and that her words had been purposefully cruel. But she could have not helped herself, not when it was his face that haunted her sleep. She could not seem to get away from him, and her helplessness grated on her. Only her word to help find Merry and Pippin kept her there. Else, she would have been gone in a flash.

Her mind cycled constantly around her worries, and they were many. She had been here over seventy years, and yet she was now running out of time. Everything seemed to be closing in at once, and she knew not where to go or what to do first.

Legolas's slight nudge brought her out of her musings, and she looked at the now visible Fangorn. Aragorn and Gimli were not close enough to be able to make it out, but the Elf and slayer could see the piles of burnt carcasses outside the darkly looming forest. It sent chills down her spine. _Something _awaited them there.

'_You do him ill'_, a voice said to her and she nearly jumped in her saddle, before her gaze locked on the reproving eyes of Legolas.

'_Shut up'_, she hissed back mentally, '_Not everyone is lucky in love_.'

'_Not everyone denies it so vehemently_,'

'_Not everyone is as nosy as you are, Thranduilion_,' Buffy replied icily, '_This is none of your business_.'

'_He hurts, Dagnir. He is an honourable man and yet you persist in doubting his word_.'

'_I have my own reasons for doing what I do_,' Buffy said, '_None of which I have to explain to you. This is between Aragorn, and me and you would do well to butt out of it. I am sick of being told off over that man. Stay out of this Greenleaf, or you will feel my steel! My patience is sorely worn out.'_

Legolas gave her that annoyingly reproachful look again, and she very nearly did scream. She had long decided that the meddling gene was one passed down from generation to generation among the Elves, and that to the royal houses a double dose was given.

Struggling to clamp down on her anger, all too easily induced these days, she focused on the forest. The smoke still rose up into the sky and the wind was now bringing the stench of roast orcs to them. Could Merry and Pippin have survived that? Or were they now going to only pay their last respects to their comrades? She did not know.

Unwittingly, she fingered the blue gem that now hung around her neck, hidden underneath her tunic and cloak, but she resisted the urge. When last she looked into it, it had only brought her doom, and she had enough nightmares without seeking out more. Knowledge was as much a bane as it was a boon.

She remained a quiet silent figure as the others mourned the lost hobbits and then regained hope when Aragorn found a trail. She did not speak, but she brought up the rear as the four companions looked into the dense and dark forest of Fangorn, and she privately agreed with Gimli's whispered comment.

"Fangorn. What madness drove them in there?" the Dwarf wondered.

Buffy feared she knew the cause. "There is something in there," she said with quiet certainty, "Something that does not like visitors."

But whatever fate awaited them under the treacherous eaves, they would have to face it, for the other three would not rest until they knew the fate of the two cheeky hobbits. And she would follow them as she had always done.

To whatever end.

-

Leading their fretting horses in, the quartet searched long and hard for the hobbits, but the trail suddenly stopped some ways into the forest, and none wanted to say that perhaps Merry and Pippin had met with something they would have been better to avoid.

None of them said anything though and so they searched until the sky grew dark, and under the heavy canopy, the light grew dim. And then were they forced to stop.

Legolas, being the only one easy under this forest's roof, led them to a clearing where they tethered their mounts and begun the work of setting up a camp. Gimli wanted to start a fire, but the minute the steel of his axe was bared, the air grew heavy and tense, and the boughs of the trees moved, creaked, and groaned ominously. Wide-eyed, the Dwarf slowly lowered his axe at a gesture from Legolas.

"The air is so close in here…," the Dwarf said in obvious discomfort.

The Wood Elf looked around at the watchful wood, "Be careful, Gimli," he cautioned, "This forest is old; and it is alive. It is so old. Very old. Full of memory... and anger. The trees are speaking to each other… Do not use your axe in these woods, and harm no tree in here! Some I think will speak to me, but others have black hearts. And I would not see you hurt."

At his words, Buffy also sheathed her knives. She wasn't exactly sure what damage a tree could do, but one thing she had learned since coming to Middle Earth, was that with places of ill repute, it was better to be safe than sorry.

"They are trees!" Gimli said, obviously thinking that his friend had had his brain addled.

"They have feelings, my friend. The Elves began it. Waking up the trees, teaching them to speak… Long, long ago. When we walked under only stars."

Gimli scoffed, "Talking trees. What do they have to talk about? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings." he grumbled.

As the Elf and Dwarf gathered dead wood for a small fire, Buffy noticed Aragorn sitting on a fallen tree, shoulders slumped and weary and from his expression; she knew that he was blaming himself for the hobbits' disappearance. The man had a tendency to take the entire world upon his shoulders. It was one of his most annoying traits. But as he sat there, looking alone and forlorn, she could not help but feel the urge to comfort him.

She knew how it felt to feel responsible for a friend's possible death; Jenny Calendar and Tara came to mind immediately. However, she could not allow him to wallow in it. He had a job to do, and she would never be released from hers if he kept this up.

The memory of the incident in Lórien still plagued her, still prevented her even pretending to feel comfortable with him. By the Valar, she was not going to be trapped in the whole 'star crossed lovers' thing again. She had had more than enough of that with Angel and that whole saga. She was not going to hand him her heart only to have him stomp on it, hack it to pieces and throw the bloody shreds back at her. Too often, she had been burned through lack of caution. Way too often. And whatever Elrond had done to convince Aragorn to break his engagement with Arwen had probably been a low blow. More than likely appealing to his sense of honour or something. But she was not going to surrender to her heart's pleas when her head told her that an angry, jealous and betrayed Arwen would come after her head.

Quietly walking over to the depressed ranger, she sat down on the log beside him. "It's not your fault," she said as grey eyes looked at her in surprise, obviously wondering why she was willingly coming near him again.

He knew of what she spoke. "Gandalf left me the leader of the company," he said, "How is it not my fault?"

"You aren't invincible Aragorn," Buffy answered, "No one is. And I know that from experience. Even if you are de facto leader, you cannot be responsible for everything. People make their own choices and Merry and Pippin chose to fight rather than run. It was their choice, not yours. Now stop beating yourself up about it."

"If it was as simple as that, Dagnir, no one would feel guilt." Aragorn replied.

"I didn't say don't feel it, because you're such a stubborn mule that you will brood no matter what I say. I'm only telling you to ease up a bit. You're not in charge of the world. Stop worrying about everything or you are going to fall down. And Elrond would have my head if you died before your time."

She offered him a weak smile, and he graciously accepted the unspoken apology. They might not be as they once were, or what he wanted them to be, but taking a step back from each other's throats was certainly a step in the right direction.

-

The break in the coldness between the two humans did not go unnoticed by the Dwarf and the Elf, who unobtrusively slipped away to the other side of the camp and kept their voices low so as not to disturb them. Both shared secret sly smiles with each other as they got a small fire going.

Gimli happily pulled out his pipe, and ignoring Legolas's wrinkled nose at the smell, he rejoiced in the much welcome taste of the pipeweed. He spoke before Legolas could comment on his 'filthy' habit that offended delicate Elven noses.

"'Tis good to see that they are on speaking terms again. It was like being back on Caradhras with those two glaring at each other all the time."

"The hardships of love, Master Gimli," the Elf replied, "This has been a long time coming, and if circumstances were not so dire, I am sure that this would be most amusing for spectators. Not that I cannot take enjoyment out of provoking them of course." Legolas had that devilish sparkle in his eye, the one that Gimli had quickly learned to beware during the now infamous prank war in Rivendell, which already seemed to have happened so long ago.

"Do not even think of it, laddie," he warned before the Elf could concoct any plans, "This is their own business, leave them be. If you want to meddle, as I can see you do, then try turning your efforts into making sure that Aragorn does not blunder it up. Buffy seems skittish to me, and I am no expert on human women. Not to mention that she is damn good with an axe. She would have made a fine Dwarf."

"That she is," Legolas concurred, "But even you cannot think that it is only Aragorn who can blunder."

"Nay, but I think Aragorn is the least likely to run, as he is the one pursuing." Gimli explained, exhaling a smoke ring that blew into the Elf's most displeased face.

"I think we should get on with dinner ere they realise that we are discussing them," Legolas said, "If we are to help them along, then it is best to be subtle about it."

"Oh aye," Gimli agreed, "A lad and lass in love can be so touchy. And with those brothers of his, I would not want to see if any of their tricks were passed onto him. Two of those menaces are more than enough!"

Legolas's lips twitched, "Indeed, Master Dwarf, and I do think that Lord Elrond would most heartily agree with you. I would not wish more on them on the world. But did you consider this, mellon, if Aragorn and Buffy do wed; think on what their children would be like… And with Elladan and Elrohir as their Elf-uncles?"

The expression on Gimli's horrified face was so comical that even Legolas could not hold his composure and burst into gales of laughter.

-

Aragorn ignored the sudden outburst of laughter from across the camp as he took Buffy's small hand in his. "I am grateful for your comfort, meldiren," he said softly and watched her cheeks colour slightly. "Your presence can ease any burden."

"It's what friends do, right?" she said, trying to joke her way out of what was becoming an uncomfortably close situation.

"And I thank you for it all the same," Aragorn said, rubbing her hand softly with sword calloused fingers, "I cannot abide this distance between us, pen vell, it wears at my heart. Can we not have some semblance of what we were? Not this… this polite silence that lies like a veil between us." (Dear one)

Her eyes would not meet his, and she tried to move back but he tightened his grip and would not let her pull away, "Have your feelings changed?" she whispered and he could have sworn he heard the faintest twinge of fear in her voice.

He looked at her earnestly, speaking softly and calmly so as not to drive her away again, "They have not. And so this distance… it wounds my heart all the more. I have longed for your counsel these many days, Buffy, and for your presence. I fear I am unused to not having your comfort and friendship to rely on."

She resolutely kept her eyes fixed on her lap, but ever so often, they strayed to where their hands were still joined, "You will be king, Aragorn. And a good one. Perhaps the best since Elendil or better. I cannot always be there for you. It's not possible."

"Perhaps not," he agreed, daring to smooth a hand down the golden curtain of hair, watching her jump and stiffen slightly as he did so. "But only once before have we been separated in anger, and I had misplaced anger to sustain me then. Never before have I had to endure your ire without meeting it with my own in turn."

As she did not spurn his touch, he kept playing with the long mass of hair, loose from its usual braids due to a day's ride, even as she struggled to come up with a response that would not lead her into dangerous territory. He sensed her internal struggle, and did not press her. The slayer's instincts always said retaliate when threatened, and he would not let anger be her escape. And that meant letting the woman speak, the very woman who she tried to repress so fiercely. Letting his wife speak.

"I do not wish to speak of this, Aragorn," Buffy said after many moments, "I can't."

"I do not press you to," Aragorn said equally quietly, both of them conscious of Legolas and Gimli having suddenly decided to take a walk far away from them, out of hearing distance, "I just do not want this coldness to return. We walk into danger, Buffy, such danger that none of us may survive it. We all have need of friends at times like this, and if the worst should happen, I do not want either of us to pass on with this cloud hanging between us."

"Neither do I," Buffy admitted painfully, unwittingly leaning into Aragorn's soothing touches, "But I am scared Aragorn…"

He looped an arm around her thin shoulders and drew her against him, resting her weary head on his shoulder, "I know," he said, inwardly dancing for joy that she was permitting this closeness, "I know. And 'tis alright to be scared. 'Tis human. You do not have to pretend in the presence of friends, Buffy. You can let other people be strong for you at times. You do not have to be the slayer all the time."

She sighed and closed her eyes, unable to bring herself to destroy this moment of calm, when for one second; all was right with the world. Even the swirling memories of her nightmares were held at bay in Aragorn's arms. She was lonely, and she knew it, but still, she would not give in. She could not give in.

"You know that it's not that easy," she murmured, the effect of many sleepless nights beginning to catch up with her, and she fought the pull of sleep even as she admitted to herself that she was very comfortable where she was.

"Perhaps not. But you have threatened to show me your steel many times for my 'brooding' as you call it. 'Tis only fair that I get the chance to do the same." he said, sensing her weariness as he held her. And knowing it to be the main reason why she had not yet departed from his embrace.

Her eyes cracked open to show hazel slits, "Watch it, buddy," she said, stifling a yawn, "You can't even imagine the lovely collection of tales I have of you. Tales which I am sure the twins would happily tease you about for as long as you should live."

He did not smile, "I have no doubt that Elladan and Elrohir are called to war. I fear war already marches on the land of my childhood. There will be little time for jesting. Even for the twins."

"You know how good they are. Pity the orcs that come across them," Buffy said comfortingly, "I am sure they'll be orc chow before long. Elladan always did have such a nasty temper."

"When we return the horses to Edoras, will you be in danger?" Aragorn said, asking a question that had been lingering in his mind since Éomer planted the seeds of it there, "Éomer said that you had been banished. Will Théoden uphold that?"

"Théoden only banished me on the word of Gríma Wormtongue," Buffy said with remembered anger, "He was a total slimeball. But not one I am scared of. Théoden won't chase after me himself, and I hardly think that in times like this he's going to set his guards on me. And even if he does, I can handle it. Don't worry, Aragorn. Théoden should be too busy gaping at me and you, Thorongil, to bother remembering a little thing like a banishment."

She pulled her cloak tighter around her, as a chill wind blew around them, and they were far from the small fire, and unknowingly pressed into his warmth. He looked at her fondly, struggling to hide the true depths of his feeling for this beautiful, brilliant woman, "You are weary," he stated.

She did not bother opening her eyes, "Three days and nights relentless pursuit, one encounter at spear point with a man I last knew as a boy, and a day's ride in a forest even Celeborn doesn't particularly like. What made you think I'm tired?"

He tightened his hold on her, "I feel much the same weariness," he admitted, and then he paused, unsure of himself, "Buffy, I have greatly missed you this past while. Will you stay close while I sleep?"

Hazel eyes snapped open to look at him with the beginnings of dread filled panic; he hurried to explain. "I meant only to sleep near me, not anything else," he said quickly, "I would have you watch my back as I watch yours. I think those two mischief makers can sort out the watch since they decided to wander away. What say you?"

The tension slowly seeped away as Buffy nodded in agreement. It would not be the first time they had laid their bedrolls beside each other for warmth or for protection on dangerous roads. Willing her rapidly beating heart to slow, she stretched out her bedroll beside his, moving slightly closer to the fire as they prepared for sleep.

Not bothering to even change out of her outer tunic, she used her cloak as a pillow and slipped underneath her blankets, taking care to avoid looking at Aragorn as he discarded his own outer tunic and boots.

Strangely comforted by the sounds of his familiar steady breathing and his familiar presence beside her, sleep came easier than it had since she was under the eaves of Lórien.

Beside her, Aragorn watched her until she was fast asleep, senses dulled by exhaustion, and he found that sleep did not come so easily to him as her closeness affected him strongly.

Less than a half hour had passed ere she started to mumble in her sleep, in the beginnings of some distress, and already half-asleep himself, Aragorn scooted his blankets closer to hers and pulled the still slumbering slayer into his arms, rubbing her back soothingly. With a soft sigh, she fell back into a dreamless sleep, and Aragorn, content now and with a warm feeling coursing along his veins, he let the sweet lull of slumber take him as Legolas hopped into a tree to take the watch.

-

She stood on a balcony brought from stone, clad in a black dress of velvet, a mourning dress, and a veil across her face hampered her view. Lifting her hands to remove the hindrance to her sight, she felt the cold circlet across her brow and dropped her hand like it had been scorched. She almost whimpered in agony as she realised that she was back here again. Each night had she been subjected to this, each night the same nightmare. Each time she had to live through hell.

Glancing down with wet eyes, she placed her shaking hands over the rounded bump of her stomach, feeling a child kick beneath her fingers, and already knowing what she would see she turned around with resigned dread.

She knew where she was. She had soon figured it out when the dreams first started. In Rath Dinin, the silent street of Minas Tirith where the kings of old took their eternal rest inside grand monuments of marble and stone.

She still flinched every time she saw his face, pale and lax in death, his body stretched out on the stone, wounds neatly patched up but the cast of death in his once lively face. Aragorn….

She somehow knew that this had been her fault, that it had always been her fault. She knew not how she knew, but she knew.

From nearby, a man with brown-ish hair looked at her, reproach in his eyes, "Your Majesty," he said with a deferential bow, "The council awaits you. They must announce the regency."

The answer leapt into her throat, as if another woman was speaking, "Tell them that I will come in a minute, Faramir. And leave me, I wish to goodbye to my husband in private." The words were cold and authoritive, with a regal note that she had never managed in her waking life.

Grey eyes seethed, but he obeyed. They always did. She carried the heir, and until he was of age, she ruled. She knew it, but it was not knowledge that Buffy had ever sought out.

Unwillingly, her hand brushed back the hair on his still face, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when a cold hand locked around her wrist. Grey eyes stared sightlessly up and that dead mouth moved, "Why did you have to kill me! Why!" he cried even as she tore herself free with a jerk.

And then the scene changed. As it always did.

Minas Tirith was burning and she was running, a small cluster of the Citadel guard surrounding her. A small boy of perhaps three or four was clutched in her arms, nearly crushing him to her.

Everywhere she looked, men were fighting, women and children lay dead in the streets, as orcs and Easterlings and Southrons poured in. The Alliance had overwhelmed them after a four month siege, and burst in through the Dwarven forged gates. The city was lost and even as the armies of Gondor went to their deaths to try to buy time for the city's people to escape, Faramir had ordered her guard and told them to get the Queen and the Prince out at all costs.

She could have fought, could have led them but fear clutched at her heart. Her child had weakened her. She could not fight while he was not safe; and her enemy had known that. He had known that no slayer would come out to face him.

And so she ran, hiking up her skirts to keep up with the sprinting guards that circled her, but death always came for those that escaped it. Whom death wanted, death got.

The scimitar bit into her from the back, running her through even as her son was torn from her arms by an orc, his neck snapped like a twig, and her guards were slain.

That familiar, maliciously grinning face was warped in the evidence of his curse, "So long lover," he mocked her, "'Tis nice to see that death has finally caught up with you…."

Gasping in agony, her eyesight blurred and began to fail as her lifeblood stained the stone beneath her; she felt her heart give way.

Only to see the white sands and blue seas of distant shores calling her, ever calling her.

'Always you cause death…. You live in every drop of spilled blood, you are destruction…. It is your fate…' the voice whispered to her, insidious in its lure, 'Avoid killing those you love…. Kinslayer… go before you can hurt them anymore…. Go to the West, killer…..'

A strong hand pulled her from her waist and she jerked out of the dream, the word 'go!' echoing in her ears…

-

Silvery moonlight penetrated the dense canopy above him, filtering down to him, giving him more light to see in, and making the shadows of the moving trees flicker like shadows of ghosts. Even in the presence of a Wood Elf, the wood was wary and unused to visitors. Moreover, the orcs at its border had only kindled long burning fires of fury, and so it seemed to Legolas that it had not been the first time orcs had fouled the wood with their presence. Some of the trees reminded him of those in the south of Mirkwood, black at heart and waiting and watching to trap an unwary visitor.

The Dwarf's snores floated into the air, sounding for all the world like a stampede of mûmakil this close by. He had seriously contemplated using the Dwarf's beard to block his nostrils, but the thought of going closer to the near ground shaking snores made his ears ache already. And so he left him alone and planned revenge for when he had to wake the Dwarf for his watch. They had already agreed between them to let Buffy and Aragorn sleep, and even more so now that he saw that his friends were now snuggled together. He did not wish to awaken that monster before 'twas necessary.

Both had far too good aim.

He and Gimli had gone for a discreet walk as Buffy and Aragorn talked, and when they returned, they seemed to have reached some accord. He hoped that his friend had managed to dent Buffy's long standing walls. They both deserved some happiness, after so many years of selfless toil.

A shadow moved and instantly, his bow was nocked and aimed in the right direction.

A hooded figure, robed in white moved amongst the horses who neighed and whinnied in fear. The Elf did not hesitate, and the singing of his bow was hidden by the snores of his friend.

The arrow did not reach the man though; he sidestepped ere it could touch him. And Legolas felt a pair of eyes boring into him in the dark.

Jumping down from the tree, he shouted, "Ai! Awake! Awake! The White Wizard comes! Awake!" to warn his comrades and then he gave chase; racing through the trees and not noticing that the trees moved their boughs back to speed his way.

But it was too late. The man was gone.

But he remembered Éomer's words, and they echoed in his mind now, _'…The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked…_' Legolas had no doubt that it had been Saruman who had come to foil them, and perhaps retrieve his prize or acquire another.

But as the wizard had disappeared, so too had the horses scattered into the night.

Cursing furiously, he turned and headed back to the camp, rage at his failure making the trees rustle as they sensed danger under their boughs. Where wizards and Eldar fought, they wanted no part of.

-

Buffy jerked back to awareness when something around her waist yanked her up rapidly, causing her head to spin from the abrupt change from dreaming to waking, from lying to standing. For a moment, she thought that she could still hear the voices, the screams but she abruptly became aware of a strong arm looped around her waist, holding her tightly against someone.

The sight of Gimli clutching his axe was the first thing she registered, along with the moving boughs of the trees that seemed to be trying to swat him. As awareness came back to her, and adrenaline fuelled her senses, she realised that it was Aragorn holding her against him, still only half awake and with sword raised threateningly.

Before she could extricate herself from the awkward position, the sound of furious Elven cursing filled the air as Legolas returned. She was sure that he would have been stomping in anger if Elves could stomp.

He stepped into the clearing, and looked up and instantly, the litany of curses stopped as he looked at the tableau of the trio in the camp. "The White Wizard is gone," he snarled, "And the horses have fled in his wake. I know not where he has gone. He simply vanished. Gimli! Lower that axe!" he called, as he saw a bough move over to smack Gimli in the head.

The Dwarf jumped, turned and stared at the tree limb in some mixture of horror and disbelief, but he lowered his axe. "By Mahal!" he swore, glaring at Legolas, "What is with Elves that they have to turn perfectly safe trees into Dwarf hating monsters? It wasn't that chap, Celeborn, was it?"

Legolas just stared blankly at him, "Yes, Gimli, that is it," he drawled sardonically, "We plan to take over the world by sending tree assassins after Dwarves too short for them to reach. Fabulous plan. Have you been at the mead again?"

Gimli's chest puffed up indignantly, but Legolas's attention snapped to Buffy and Aragorn before he could say anything. The Elf's eyes widened, "Aragorn?" he asked, "Buffy? What are you doing?"

As Buffy broke free, face flushing red, Aragorn abruptly realised that his first action had been to try to protect her. She who probably needed the least protection of the four of them. His own face flushed slightly as he realised what they must have looked like to the Elf and Dwarf. He, holding her around the waist in a protective embrace, sword raised to defend them both as if she was incapable of dealing with any threats herself.

Buffy muttered something about scouting for the wizard and vanished into the trees, leaving Aragorn to deal with the weight of his friend's stares.

"You really know how to do it, laddie, don't you?" Gimli said, "Go after her, ere she decides that you really are an idiot."

Grateful for the opportunity to get away and knowing that Legolas was likely to be fuming for the next few hours due to the horses disappearing on his watch, Aragorn disappeared into the trees in the direction that Buffy had taken.

He found her, seated on a tree stump, face buried in her hands. "Buffy," he said hesitantly, "I think we need to talk."

She jumped at the sound of his voice and whirled around to face him, "Talk?" she repeated incredulously, "Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was? Gimli will torment me for the next century! And Legolas for the next two! What were you thinking? Were you thinking! I can take care of myself! Get that through your thick skull!" she ranted, venting her anger and fear on the nearest person available.

Something inside Aragorn snapped as he listened to Buffy's words, and he decided that doing this the normal, polite way was apparently not working. Advancing on the infuriated slayer with a fury of his own, he backed her all the way up to a tree trunk, and had the audacity to smirk when her eyes widened at his actions.

"I do not think that you realise how serious I am, verce," Aragorn drawled, bracing his arms on either side of her head, watching as she debated whether to squirm out of his hold or just throw him off. (Wild one)

"Aragorn, you maniac!" Buffy chastised, "Stop this right now or I swear…."

Her words were abruptly muffled as Aragorn's mouth swept down on hers and proceeded to try to turn her legs to jelly. Fiery heat gushed through both of them, and Buffy felt her indignation being swept away in its wake.

When he released her just as abruptly, he was pleased to see her wobble slightly, "Apology given," he said with a mocking courtly bow, and he departed as quietly as he had come, leaving her to stare after him.

Her hand came up to touch her lips, "Now that boy can kiss…" she murmured, but a small part within her wondered at the change in him, while the larger part screamed run.

-

"Evil things have plans. They have things to do." Buffy said soothingly to the infuriated Elf, "I'm sure he didn't mean to dodge the arrow. I mean, of course he wanted to die. Have some optimism, Legolas; you can shoot him next time."

"Optimism." Legolas repeated, "I remember optimism. Vaguely."

"That's because you're, like, a thousand."

Legolas gave her a sidelong look, "Only a little over five hundred actually."

"Because that isn't old," Buffy said sarcastically, "But really, y-"

Legolas cut her off, as Elven bright eyes speared through the gloom, "Look!" he cried, pointing into the distance.

"Look at what?" Buffy said, "It's not a squirrel again, is it? Because if you throw one more acorn at Gimli, I really think he's going to lose it."

"Not that! There in the trees!" he whispered urgently.

"Where?" Gimli demanded, coming up to them, "I have not Elf-eyes."

"Hush! Speak more softly! Look!" said Legolas pointing, even as Aragorn joined him, concerned now, "Down in the wood, back in the way that we have just come. It is he. Cannot you see him, passing from tree to tree?"

"I see, I see now!" hissed Gimli, pulling out his axe, "Look, Aragorn! Did I not warn you? There is the old man. All in dirty grey rags, that is why I could not see him at first."

The figure moved slowly, slightly bent over, dressed in grey rags and it was not far way. It held a rough staff, and while those less learned might have mistaken it for a beggar, it screamed Istari to the quartet.

Buffy shook her head, "Something's not right," she whispered, "There's something in the air."

She was right. They could all feel it; - a certain expectancy, feeling a hidden power or menace.

Legolas looked at it grimly, "The White Wizard approaches." he said with strange certainty.

Buffy and Aragorn unsheathed their blades, "Do not let him speak." Aragorn warned, "He will put a spell on us… And we must be quick. Be wary. "

Legolas notched an arrow, and held it ready, as they felt it approach from behind. Under his breath, Aragorn made the count, "One…. Two……. Three!" With a yell, they spun around, blades and an arrow bared but even as they completed their turn, there was a flash of white light that blinded them. Gimli and Aragorn cried out as their blades turned red hot and they involuntarily dropped the scorching weapons. Even Legolas's arrow dissolved in fire before it could make impact. However, even as Buffy watched her friends' lose control of their own weapons, hers were perfectly sound. And even with the spectacular magic display, she couldn't feel a threat for the life of her.

The White Wizard hid behind his shield of bright light, "You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits." a strangely familiar voice said.

Aragorn's fists clenched, "Where are they?" he demanded.

"They passed this way the day before yesterday. They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?" came the calmly infuriating reply.

The ranger would not leave it go, even though Buffy watched the wizard with puzzled eyes, wondering to threaten him or not, "Who are you? Show yourself!" Aragorn said forcefully, "Unless you are Saruman, what need have you to hide?"

A moment passed and then the bright light dimmed, revealing the wizard.

Four jaws dropped.

"It cannot be. You fell in Moria! You are dead!" Aragorn said quietly, shaking his head, even as Buffy stared at the wizard in utter surprise.

But her soft voice made the ranger quiet, "And so was I," she reminded him, "You died with the Balrog, didn't you? How are you here? And all white-y? Isn't that supposed to be Saruman's colour?" she asked.

"I have passed through fire and water." he answered, "From the lowest dungeon, to Durin's Tower, to the highest peak, I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth. I did die, slayer. To kill him, I killed myself. But I have been sent back until my task is done."

"Gandalf!" Aragorn said shakily, seeming to accept that his friend had been returned to them.

The wizard seemed strange, "Gandalf? Yes... That is what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name." he said smiling. Buffy eyed him warily, he seemed so different. "I am Gandalf the White. And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide."

"I take it Saruman got demoted, or are you just sharing wardrobes now?" Buffy remarked.

"No, Saruman has yet to be dealt with, and even now I fear that we are too late," the wizard said, "Forces move in Rohan."

"Too late for what?" Buffy demanded, "What do you know, Gandalf?"

"I have been gathering information," the wizard replied, "And I think that you need to know it. This in brief is how I see things now. The Enemy, of course, had long known that the Ring is abroad, and that it is borne by a hobbit. He knows now the number of our company that set out from Rivendell, and the kind of each of us. However, he does not yet perceive our purpose clearly. He supposes that we were all going to Minas Tirith; for that is what he would himself have done in our place."

Buffy and Gimli shifted uncomfortably, remembering Boromir's confession. Too late, Gandalf, Buffy thought.

The wizard continued, "And according to his wisdom it would have been a heavy stroke against his power. Indeed, he is in great fear, not knowing what mighty one may suddenly appear, wielding the Ring, and assailing him with war, seeking to cast him down and take his place. That we should wish to cast him down and have no one in his place is not a thought that occurs in his mind. That we should try to destroy the Ring itself has not yet entered into his darkest dream. In which no doubt you will see our good fortune and our hope. For imagining war he has let loose war, believing that he has no time to waste; for he that strikes the first blow, if he strikes it hard enough, many need to strike no more. Therefore, the forces that he has long been preparing, he is now setting in motion, sooner than he intended. Wise fool. For if he had used all his power to guard Mordor, so that none could enter, and bent all his guile to the hunting of the Ring, then indeed hope would have faded; neither Ring nor bearer could long have eluded him. But now his eyes gazes abroad rather than near at home, and mostly he looks toward Minas Tirith. Very soon now his strength will fall upon it like a storm."

Aragorn looked startled, he had promised not to let the White City fall while it was in his power, and now Gandalf was saying that his oath might have been broken before it was sworn.

"He already knows that the messengers that he sent to waylay the company have failed again. They have not found the Ring. Neither have they brought away any hobbits as hostages. Had they done even so much as that, it would have been a heavy blow to us, and it might have been fatal. But let us not darken our hearts by imagining the trial of their gentle loyalty in the Dark Tower. For the Enemy has failed - so far. Thanks to Saruman."

"He thinks he's betrayed him?" Buffy said, nodding, "Makes sense."

"Yes, Sauron thinks that Saruman wants the Ring for himself, which he does, and so the union of the Two Towers may be sundered once word reaches Sauron that Saruman has had hobbits brought to him. But that strike will come too late. Saruman already causes trouble in Rohan and he brings war. We must travel to Edoras with all speed."

Gimli snorted, "Edoras? That is no short distance."

Aragorn moved forward in concern, "We hear of trouble in Rohan. It goes ill with the king."

The wizard was already moving, "Yes, and it will not be easily cured."

Gimli jogged up from behind, "Then we have run all this way for nothing? Are we to leave those poor hobbits here in this horrid, dank, dark, tree-infested…?" The trees rumbled warningly and Legolas smothered a snicker, Gimli eyes the trees with no little fear, "I mean, charming, quite charming forest."

"Be at ease, Master Dwarf," Gandalf said, "Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact their coming here shall be like the first rock of an avalanche."

Aragorn shook his head, "In one thing you have not changed, dear friend. You still speak in riddles."

"But what do you mean?" Buffy asked.

"A thing is about to happen that has not happened since the Eldar Days. The Ents are going to wake up, and find that they are strong."

Legolas's eyes widened and his head snapped round to look at Gandalf. He knew well what Ents were.

Gimli just shrugged, clearly perturbed by the idea of dangerous trees, "Strong?" The rumbles came again, and he jumped, and then rushed to correct himself, "Oh, that is good."

The bustling wizard paid him no heed, "Stop your fretting Master Dwarf. Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact, they are far safer than you are about to be."

The Dwarf glared at his retreating back, before moving on again, "This new Gandalf is even grumpier than the old one."

Buffy totally agreed.

-

As they waited for their horses to respond to Gandalf's call. Apparently, it had been Saruman who had scared them off last night, Gandalf remembered something of importance. "Lady Galadriel bid me give you these messages," he said, "I had almost forgotten. "To Aragorn she sends this riddle- _Where now are the Dúnedain, Elessar, Elessar?_

Why do thy kinsfolk wander afar?

Near is the hour when the Lost should come forth,

And the Grey Company ride from the North,

But dark is the path appointed for thee;

The Dead watch the road that leads to the Sea.

Follow thy heart to the White Tree."

The ranger looked puzzled and perturbed, and he fell quiet. Buffy wondered what Galadriel meant, the Dúnedain were too far away for messages.

To Legolas was given an equally disquieting message, "_Legolas Greenleaf long under tree,_

In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea!

If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore,

Thy heart shall rest in the forest no more.

She comes at the end of war,

The mistress who holds you in her thrall."

For a Wood Elf, that was like the kiss of death. It always dragged them away from their homes. Buffy felt sorry for Thranduil, the King would be heartbroken. But Galadriel was seldom wrong.

But whether or not Legolas and Aragorn understood their messages, they did not say. But Buffy well understood hers, and dreaded it, "_Beware Dagnir, and take heed,_

Else, thou shalt live by thy predecessors' creed,

For one to live another must die,

Beware the evil that draws nigh,

Dagnir, watcher of the dark,

To the Timeless Halls you may depart,

If you stray from chosen course,

Remember thy birthright,

One must die for another to live."

She had long sensed this was coming, but luckily, Gandalf was in such a rush as not to allow time for anyone to press her about its meaning.

"One stage of the journey is over, another begins." Gandalf said solemnly, "War has come to Rohan. We must ride to Edoras with all speed. We are needed…"

A glorious stallion waited for them under the eaves of the forest, along with their other three mounts.

Legolas looked at the horse in appreciation, "That is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell."

Gandalf nodded, "Shadowfax. He is the lord of all horses and has been my friend through many dangers. But come, we must ride hard and fast! The danger in Edoras cannot wait!"

-

Later that day, they stopped for a break just to shut Gimli up, and Gandalf approached the quiet slayer, "Buffy, it does me good to see you," he said, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"Welcome back to you too, Gandalf," she said with a small smile, "Dying sucks doesn't it?" As Gandalf sat down, she spoke in a whisper, "I left Narya with Galadriel. Did she return it to you?"

"Oh yes, she did," Gandalf said, "But the ring is no longer mine."

"Don't tell me that you lost it!" Buffy hissed in dismay.

He held out his hand and opened it. Within lay the Ring of Fire, "It is no longer mine Buffy, but yours. You linked to it; it is yours and yours alone, now."

Her eyes widened, "No, this so cannot be true," she denied desperately, "Narya is yours."

"Narya has chosen you," Gandalf said, dropping the ring in her lap, "You did a great thing Buffy. One that no one else thought could be done."

"What? Die?" Buffy said. "'Cos that's not so original."

"No, Buffy, the Three are sundered from the One."

The slayer stared at him uncomprehendingly, "That's impossible." she said flatly.

"Not anymore, somehow you did it Buffy," he replied, "And now Narya will only answer to you. I just pass it on to its new bearer."

She stared at it, and before she could recover her wits enough to shove it back at him, he rose, "And by the way, excellently done with Boromir. Excellently done. It seems another one of our fellowship shall return from the dead…"

Chuckling, he walked away, leaving Buffy's dumbstruck eyes to follow him as he went, wondering what the hell had just happened.

-

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A/N: Well? What do you think? Fluffy goodness? Opinions wanted please! Please **READ **and **REVIEW!**

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Next chapter: Gandalf and company go to Edoras… Théoden gets a shock…. old friends and enemies meet… and suspicion runs rife… and a Shieldmaiden sees a possible future…

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Elvish:

Thranduilion - son of Thranduil

Dagnir - slayer

Mellon - friend

Meldiren - my friend

Pen vell - dear one

Verce - wild one

Dúnedain - Men of the West

Elessar - Elf-stone

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Éomer - son of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2991. Has lived with Théoden King since his parents death 3002.

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Éomund of Eastfold - Chief Marshal of the Mark. Would go on to be brother-in-law to Théoden King of Rohan and father to Éomer and Éowyn.

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Éowyn - daughter of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2995. Has lived with Théoden King since her parents death 3002.

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Rath Dinen - 'The Silent Street' in Minas Tirith.

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Théodred - Son of King Théoden of Rohan, slain in the First Battle of the Fords of Isen.

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Thorongil - 'eagle of the star'. Aragorn's alias when he served as an officer to Ecthelion II, Steward of Gondor and when he rode with the Rohirrim under King Thengel.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

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«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	41. The Lady of the Mark

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Aragorn and Buffy's strained relationship ever be resolved? What will Aragorn do with the information, the secret, which he now knows? What has Arwen planned? And what will happen when the Three rise up in fury? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty when she's now the hunted? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And what path does Boromir now follow?

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Author's notes: Éowyn comes into the story in this chapter! Yay! In addition, would everyone please note that due to the fact that Tolkien crammed everything about Helms Deep and events in Rohan into the space of about three days, from here on out, the timelines will diverge. With Buffy's presence and my own inability to fit everything into the time span as well as the fact that Gandalf's line '_Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day_,' contradicts the books, I have judged it better to just alter the timelines to fit in with everything in the story. Please do not flame me. If it makes anyone feel any better, let's just say I liked the movie timeline better, okay? If anyone wants details of the altered timelines as the story goes on, I can add it to the bottom of my little encyclopaedia thingy. Just let me know if you want me to.

Also, this chapter is even longer than the last one, so I seem to be on some lucky streak!

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Review responses:

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - thanks! And sadly, I have plans for Éowyn's crush… Interesting that you should say that about the palantír though….

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Andrea35 - thanks! And Aragorn is starting to wear Buffy down, along with her own mind…. Even a slayer is not invincible… Okay, as to Galadriel's message, it had no bearing on any new slayer. There will be no slayer. Galadriel said 'predecessors' creed' - in reference to the slayers that went before her. You know, they had to die when their time came. Usually for someone else to live. And that is as much as I can say on the subject at the moment…

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Anna - why, thanks! Buffy's dream could be either prophetic or Sauron induced, but I am not telling yet. And yes, the sequel is going to be action packed and hopefully heart wrenching, and I am starting to drop hints here and there in this fic.

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Anyanka of the Ocean - how different? And I thought the whole point of this story was to throw new ideas in? Oh well…

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Boo - glad you liked it! Okay, how do I explain this? Sauron never actually touched the Three but it was said that if he ever regained the One, he would know the bearer's thoughts and the rings would be his. However, Buffy tied and took Narya with her. Somehow, something happened (which I have not revealed yet) which sundered Narya from ever being controlled by the One, and because the Three are so closely linked, sister rings for lack of a better term, it took Vilya and Nenya with it. It will be explained more fully in time but I cannot just give my reasons up just yet.

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Dreamer Child - thanks! And don't underestimate Aragorn in these next few chapters. That will be Buffy's big mistake…. And I'm a little confused, if you're all Irish, how come you've never been there?

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Ea - thanks! My fic 'A Light' has been passed onto another author. I do not know when she will post - she has not been in contact. And remember, we are fanfic fans, most of our dream guys are fictional or unattainable, so we're all sad together. Yay!

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FallenStar2 - wow! A super long review! Thanks! And I do plan for something good to happen to Boromir, so do not worry on that front. And too true about the wrench, but then again, Buffy and Aragorn have so many issues to work through, what's one more? And yes, when Aragorn confronts her… Well, it isn't going to be pretty… But watch out, he did grow up around the twins… He is sneakier than even she dreamed…. And she did not so much take back Narya as have it dumped in her lap, but yes, it is back with her again. And you are so right about all the possibilities. What a pity I won't be telling you if you are right or not… (Ducks hail of stones) And yes, prophecies have a tendency not to go well for Buffy. Ever. Do not expect this one to be any different…. But there will be no other slayer called. No other slayers in ME, period. Éomer was nice-ish to her because he is not dumb. He remembers her, um, unique ability to humiliate people who are not nice to her, and decided to err on the side of caution. A very wise move. Pity Théoden did not do the same….

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Greenleaf - thanks! And she is in love. And no, I do not have any chapters written on the other fics yet as I am in the middle of my mock final exams so I am extremely busy. However I do have them mostly plotted out and will be starting them as soon as I get a chance.

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Haley - thanks! Edoras is in this chapter. And you should feel somewhat sorry for Gríma. Buffy, Gandalf, Éowyn, Éomer _and_ Théoden are after his blood! And about the dream, you are right… on her side at least….

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Kit-Kat - thanks! Okay, let's just say that Aragorn's luck is getting better, and that he has figured out some major no-nos in dealing with Buffy. The slayer is going to be so off balance for the next while… And her dreams are meant to be disturbing! I enjoy tormenting my readers!

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Light Spinner - just slightly busy.

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Lindiel Eryn - thanks! As for what Buffy will do, watch this space…. But to make one thing clear, Arwen's vision of Aragorn's death in the movies wasn't fake. Elrond was showing her what would happen when old age finally caught up with him and she would be left alone.

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Lunawolf - Horrible thoughts have a bad habit of becoming reality… and I am the Queen of evil endings. And of course, Éowyn is going to do something, but she is going to have a little help… and yes, you have deciphered Legolas's riddle rightly. However, it has two meanings, so you got them both!

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Mari - thanks! And yes, their kids would be Terrors. Capital T. And about the riddle, you're partly right…

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MiShA - thanks! Yes, Gríma's reaction is to be seen in this chapter. Along with a few others. And glad you like my Legolas, I like him sarcastic, devious and witty!

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Pamie - I always think that a sarcastic Legolas is a good Legolas. Thranduil is his father after all…

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PrecariousPersonata - thanks! But no, I have checked and I never mentioned wife when Galadriel mentioned Boromir's fate.

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ShawThang - thanks! I'm glad the fluff is going down well. This is really one of my first attempts at writing it. But hopefully, there will be a lot more. Without the plot being sacrificed. I like Gimli acting as comic relief, but I am aware that there is more to him, and I will hope to show that. Boromir…. hmmm… I might throw a tidbit in soon just to appease my rabid readers, okay?

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sparky24 - thank you! And yes, Buffy is starting to come round. Moreover, Aragorn is determined to give her a few shoves in the right direction. And about the prophecy? Adopt a 'wait and see' policy…

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Star - Do not knock yourself. I am deliberately obtuse at times.

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Tara6 - Boromir will shine mostly in RotK.

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Vixen519 - he is about 87.

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And major thanks to:

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Annje, Athene Saile, Catgirl Elf Princess, girl, Mama T, ms8309, Night-Owl123, RedsLover03, Rise of Phoenix, Sukera, Tommy14, Tsuki no Yasha, Wild320,

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CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: THE LADY OF THE MARK

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"The thing that women have to learn is that nobody gives you power. You just take it."

– Roseanne Barr

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Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 2

The city of Edoras was much changed from what either Buffy or Aragorn remembered of it.

The people of the Riddermark were not as learned as those of Gondor; their native tongue had no written counterpart, and was only passed down from generation to generation. For all that, they were livelier than the Men of Gondor too. Quicker of temper and mood, they were merry when pleased and fell when angry. But Buffy had never seen them so… so defeated before.

The Rohirrim had an uncanny knack to laugh in the face of death, and she had never seen them browbeaten before. Dark was their raiment, and downcast their eyes, though they looked upon the small party with small curiosity, it was not the joviality which would have greeted visitors in the past.

Gandalf did not seem as surprised by the change that had swept through the capital of the Mark, "Edoras and the Golden Hall of Meduseld are close by now," he said for the benefit of Gimli and Legolas, who had never before been to Rohan. "There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown. Saruman's hold over King Théoden is now very strong. I fear too strong…" He sighed at his own words.

Buffy nodded, "I knew him in his days of old, when he was younger and had his own mind. Now I hear that he is old before his time and that he has some illness that leaves him unfit for the title of king." she said, "But I do not think hope is lost yet. His house is a very stubborn one. And trust me, I speak from experience. They can be like mules."

Legolas noticed the surprised stares aimed at Aragorn and Buffy, and the ever increasing mutters of disbelief. The names 'Thorongil' and 'Elliandre' often reached his ears. "The people talk of you, Dúnadan, Dagnir," he said. "Word of our coming shall precede us."

"I think they're just surprised to see us still alive and kicking," Buffy said dryly, "It has been a long while. Especially for Aragorn here."

"Let us hope that it will not bar us from the halls of the king," Gandalf said, adjusting the grip on his staff.

"I only hope that there is someone merry in this place," Gimli growled, "You would find more cheer in a graveyard."

"With war darkening its borders, it may soon be nothing but a graveyard," Gandalf said solemnly and silenced them all.

-

At the entrance to Meduseld, buffeted by the strong winds, stood a slender figure. Long golden hair was caught by the wind and blown every which way but wide eyes remained locked on the strange group of figures approaching the Golden Hall.

Clad in white and gold, the White Lady of Rohan stared at the apparition of times past. Of ambitions and dreams past. The face had not changed. Elliandre had returned.

Her face was unlined, and seemed as youthful as the last time the daughter of Éomund had seen her, when she had still been a child, and only her eyes showed that she had an older soul than her body would account for. Éowyn remembered the time Buffy had told her of Dwimordene, and her passage through the witch's lands, but she had claimed that the tales were wrong and that she had left unchanged.

Éowyn realised now that this must have been false. For Elliandre looked a woman of her own age, and not one that should be old enough to be her mother. She had been a woman grown ere she ever came to Rohan and yet she had not aged. Obviously, Elliandre was tied to Dwimordene and the Lady that ruled there. The Mistress of Magic that ensnared all in her nets.

She wished she knew for what purpose Elliandre now returned, after all these years. However, her attention was caught by the strange travelling companions of the woman. Her eyes went round at her first glimpse of Elf and Dwarf. Had Elliandre brought forth some of those who dwelt in Dwimordene?

Gandalf Greyhame she recognised also, but it was the man that rode beside Elliandre that caught her attention.

He was dressed in the garb of a well travelled warrior, but his face was noble and stern, and handsome for all the cares that lay on it. He held himself as if he was more than a mere warrior, but like a king, as she had seen both Théodred and Éomer do at times.

He looked at her then, and their gazes locked and she took a step back at the intensity of it. Whoever this man was, she knew, he was no mere anything. Moreover, her heart fluttered strangely at the sense of power he held. Maybe this was the one who could release her from the chains of her bower, release her from the fetters that her gender forced on her.

His sharp grey haze released her, and she felt adrift as the wind grew stronger. With one last glance at the mysterious man, and the strangely unchanged Elliandre, she disappeared back into the Golden Hall.

If they had come to see her uncle, then she wanted to be there when they approached him.

-

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Meduseld, Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 2

Feeling uneasy with the amount of eyes upon her, Buffy climbed the stairs to Meduseld with the others. A group of guards, clad in the embellished armour of the King's guards, blocked their path.

Gandalf did not seem overly surprised. Instead, he seemed to be trying to act like an old man, and an eccentric one at that, when Buffy knew full well that he would probably outlast them all.

A guard called Háma, obviously the leader, stepped forward, "Who are your companions, wizard?" he said, "And why do you come to these halls?"

"You know me, Háma," Gandalf said, but realised that he would not get away with leaving his companions nameless, "With me are one known to you as Elliandre, whom I call Buffy, Gimli son of Glóin, Legolas of the Woodland Realm and Aragorn, son of Arathorn. Seldom have guests of such honour graced these halls."

Háma did not seem to know what to make of that, but he persevered, "I cannot allow you before Théoden-King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By order of Gríma Wormtongue." he made it sound like a curse when he uttered the counsellor's name and Buffy grimaced when she realised that the old snake was still around.

Gandalf only nodded and ignoring the heated stares of Gimli and Legolas, who did not want to part from their weapons at all, he gestured for everyone to hand over their weapons to the guards. Glowering, Gimli and Legolas obliged, but Buffy noticed, that like her and Aragorn, Legolas did not give up some of the more secretly stashed knives hidden upon his person. Trust a Wood Elf to be as suspicious as a slayer.

However, she did notice that they took delight in scaring the poor Rohirrim guards. Legolas gave his knives a deadly little twirl and then told them to be careful with his bow, for it was a gift from the Lady Galadriel. At those words, Háma had nearly dropped the bow and was forced to put it down as fast as was humanly possible. And even Gimli seemed to take inordinate pleasure in handing the axe to them blade first.

When Háma gestured for Gandalf's staff, Buffy had to smother a smirk when the canny old wizard blinked innocently and pretended not to understand. Clearly uncomfortable, Háma was forced to spell it out for him. "Your staff..." he said awkwardly.

Gandalf feigned a look of surprise, "Hmm?" he said, looking innocently at his staff, in a way that would have done Elladan and Elrohir proud. "Oh. No, surely you would not part an old man from his walking stick?"

Háma seemed to hesitate, but Gandalf just kept up the innocent look and the guard caved, and gestured for them to follow him into the hall. Buffy had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from smirking when she saw Gandalf give Aragorn a tiny wink and leaned on Legolas's arm, as if he needed aid to walk.

She just knew that Gríma Wormtongue would blow a fuse at the sight of him.

The Golden Hall had changed much since Buffy had last been there and it saddened her to see it. It was dark now, and little light filtered in. Théoden, shockingly aged and decrepit, slumped on his throne, with the greasy, dark-haired advisor Gríma beside him.

The atmosphere was dark and depressing and it so did not bode well for their little mission.

The worm perked up at the sight of them, surprise and malice in his expression. He leaned down to whisper to Théoden even as they made their way towards him, "My Lord, Gandalf the Grey is coming. He is a herald of woe." he said, confident that the King would follow his instructions, as it always was of late.

Gandalf strode forward, letting go of the prop of Legolas's arm, "The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King. Has not the messenger from your gate reported the names of my companions? Seldom has any lord of Rohan received four such guests. Weapons they have laid at your doors that are worth many a mortal man, even the mightiest. Grey is their raiment, for the Elves clad them, and thus they have passed through the shadow of great perils to your hall."

Gríma hissed at him, "They come from the witch's realm. They will bewitch you with lies!"

"That guy just bugs me," Buffy whispered to Gimli as his lips curled at the sight of the slimy advisor.

The small group with the wizard looked around at the hostile atmosphere, and the small group of ill looking men that dogged their footsteps.

"Witchcraft again, Wormtongue?" Buffy said and threw back the hood of her cloak, "Do you not remember me Théoden King?" she asked, "Or has this worm poisoned your mind beyond repair?"

"You!" Gríma yelped, "You were banished!"

"Well, I'm here now. How good of you to notice that. You're a lot smarter than you look. Of course, you look like a retard. And by that, I mean no disrespect, of course. I'm sure you come from a long, proud line of geeks."

Gríma nearly snarled at the sight of her, and her words filled him with rage but there was no acknowledgement from Théoden and he was aware that the wizard was more dangerous at the moment. To Buffy's eyes, Théoden seemed a shell of the king that he had been. Gríma continued to whisper poison in his ear, "He is not welcome!" he hissed.

Théoden lifted his head and nearly blank eyes looked at the wizard. Slowly, with great effort, he spoke, as if the effort was beyond him, "Why should I… welcome you, Gandalf… Stormcrow?" When he finished, he looked to Gríma, as if to make sure he had said the right thing.

Confident now that he held the power, Gríma stood and spewed forth his bile at them, "A just question, my liege." he said soothingly, stepping forward towards Gandalf, his voice growing louder as he felt his strength secure with Théoden's lack of will, "It is not yet five days since the bitter tidings came that Théodred, your son, was slain upon the West Marches; your right hand, Second Marshal of the Mark. In Éomer, there is little trust. Few men would be left to guard your walls, if he had been allowed to rule. And even now, we learn from Gondor that the Dark Lord is stirring in the East. Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Why indeed should we welcome you Master Stormcrow? Lathspell spell I name you; Ill-news. Ill news is an ill guest they say."

Gandalf just glared at him, even as Buffy gasped at the news that Théodred was dead. "Be silent!" he snapped, "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!" he raised his staff against the sly advisor and he cowered at the sight of it.

Gríma snarled at the guards while backing away, "His staff! I told you to take the wizard's staff!" he chastised harshly.

Without warning, save for what watchful eyes could tell, the men that had dogged their steps since entering Meduseld attacked. Whirling, Buffy grabbed the arm of one that sought to grab her by the neck and flipped him over her, even as Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas did the same around her. Neutralising the attack and allowing Gandalf space to do what he had come to do.

Gandalf did not halt or slow in his approach of Théoden, and Gamling, the king's captain and loyal bodyguard tried to go forward but to his surprise, Háma held him back.

Gandalf raised his staff and his voice boomed, "Théoden, son of Thengel, too long have you sat in the shadows. For behold! The storm comes, and now all friends should gather together, lest each singly be destroyed."

Terror taking him, Gríma tried to crawl away unnoticed but Gimli pounced on him, catching him and pinning him to the floor. "I would stay still, if I were you." the Dwarf growled menacingly.

Gandalf continued on, and Buffy, cheerfully standing on a fallen man, watched the wizard work, "Harken to me, son of Thengel! I release you from the spell." he said, with an impressive gesture with his staff.

On the throne, the figure that was Théoden started to chuckle dryly, menacingly, growing in strength and volume the longer it continued. Even Gandalf looked at him in surprise. "You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!" the voice of Saruman came through the body of Théoden, smug with the certainty of victory.

Gandalf suddenly threw back his grey cloak, and the bright white light that hurt Buffy's eyes sprang up again. Théoden was thrown back against his seat and pinned there as he raised his staff.

"Argh!" the king cried, Saruman still possessing him.

Gandalf pointed his staff like an arrow, his voice determined as he spoke, "I shall draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound."

Head snapping around, Buffy watched Éowyn rush in, and seeing the commotion, she tried to dash to her uncle. Buffy made to go to her but Aragorn got there first, and catching her, held her back gently. "Wait," he bid her softly.

"If I go. . . Théoden dies." Saruman sneered at his rival, leaning forward in the chair, "Either way I win, you old fool! You have not the power to thwart me!"

Gandalf threw him back again, "You did not kill me, you will not kill him!" he snapped.

From behind Théoden's eyes, Saruman glared, "Rohan is mine!" he roared.

But Gandalf was stronger than he had imagined, and the White Wizard matched him, "Be gone!" he ordered, even as the figure of Théoden lunged at him. Théoden was thrown back by the force of it as Gandalf's power filled the room, and far away, in the tower of Orthanc, the real body of Saruman slammed into the hard stone wall and then to the floor.

Gandalf watched the king, as he let out a low moan and slumped forward in the chair. Alarmed beyond measure, Éowyn broke free of Aragorn's hold and ran to her uncle's side as he fell forward. After a moment, Théoden's head lifted, and before their very eyes, his face began to flush with life. With every passing moment, the aged and decrepit look faded away to be replaced by what he should have been; - an older man still strong in body and mind, and the grey of his hair and beard changed to the dull gold colour of his youth. At last, even as Éowyn looked at him with tear filled eyes, he seemed to regain clarity and really looked at his niece for the first time in Eru knew when.

"I know your face. Éowyn… Éowyn…" he said in a whisper, even as she wept for joy.

Gandalf smiled at the sight, and Buffy let out a sigh of relief, "Breathe the free air again, my friend."

And so he did.

The dark curtains that shrouded the hall in darkness were pulled back, and light filled his halls once more. Trembling, Théoden stood, supported by Éowyn, but he soon found that his strength was returned to him.

Théoden stared in wonder at the wizard, "Dark have been my dreams of late…. And now…."

Gandalf smiled gently, "Your fingers would remember their old strength better... if they grasped your sword."

Háma ran up with the king's old sword, and Théoden reached for it with trembling hands, wrapping his fingers slowly around the hilt and then drawing it from its sheath, looking at the glinting steel as if mesmerised.

In the corner, Buffy had joined Gimli in keeping the frightened treacherous little weasel in place, and he tried to crawl away at the sight of her, but she could only smile brightly- which seemed to frighten him further.

"Payback's a bitch, isn't it?" she said cheerfully, 'accidentally' stomping on his arm to hold him in place.

But Gríma sensed his time was up, and as Théoden's strength and memories returned to him, the King's livid gaze and attention turned to the traitorous Gríma.

Buffy was really pleased to see that infamous Rohirrim temper surface once more…

-

'Twas with much amusement and the satisfaction of revenge fulfilled that Buffy watched Théoden run Gríma out of Meduseld, with the intention of continuing right on until he was thrown out of the city, and then out of Rohan.

After all, it was not often that one saw a livid king act like a hound on the chase.

Trembling with rage, the king had stalked Gríma out through the threshold of Meduseld and then had physically thrown him out of his halls and down the stairs. Buffy had to admit that it was a most impressive throw and that Gríma squealed most satisfactorily.

Gríma scrambled up onto all fours, and looked beseechingly at Théoden, "I have only ever served you, my lord!" he cried; to the last trying to get himself out of this mess.

Théoden, clutching his sword, just continued to stalk forward and Buffy perched herself on one of the stairs to watch the show. "Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" Théoden snarled, "You are a traitor to Rohan and deserve to die a traitor's death!"

Buffy really wondered when Wormtongue was going to figure out that grovelling just was not going to work. "Send me not from your side!" Gríma pleaded, hands out as if to protest his innocence.

Théoden raised his sword but Aragorn came upon him and held him back. Buffy glared at the back of the ranger. What in Arda was he doing? Gríma was a spy for Saruman; surely they were not going to let him go? She had learned early on never to leave a baddie unfinished, because it might take years, but they would rise up to haunt you. They always dis.

Aragorn had a firm grip on Théoden's sword arm, "No, my lord!" he said, unwavering under Théoden's fiery gaze, "No, my lord. Let him go. Enough blood has been spilled on his account. Let him go and see what scraps his master will throw him now that he has failed."

Théoden stared at the ranger for a moment, and then nodded tersely, lowering his sword. Gríma did not wait around for the king to change his mind, and to the displeasure of nearly everyone present, he scrambled to his feet and started pushing through the crowd, seeking to get out of the gates of Edoras as fast as he could go.

"Get out of my way!" he yelled.

And unwilling to let him go unmarked, Buffy called out, "How about you let the door hit you in the ass on the way out of town?"

Gandalf shot her a long suffering look but she just batted her eyelashes innocently until he sighed and looked away, shaking his head as he did so.

Háma approached his king, and called out to all present, "Hail, Théoden king!"

Still staring at the long unseen figure of their king, the people of Edoras knelt and despite Buffy and Gandalf's stares, Aragorn did also.

The king bowed his head to acknowledge their signs of respect but then he looked up, as if something had just occurred to him, and he turned to look at Éowyn, "Where is Théodred? Where is my son?"

-

__

The grave mounds, outside Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 2

__

"He was slain at the Fords of Isen some days ago, my lord,'" Éowyn said, tears streaking down her pale face, "He took a grievous wound. Éomer brought him to Edoras as soon as he could, but his wound was too grave. He lies with your fathers now, uncle."

Éowyn's words haunted his mind, echoing over and over until he knew by heart.

His son was dead.

And he had not known. Had not even gone to him on his deathbed.

He was conscious that Gandalf and Elliandre - no, she was called Buffy now- lingered to see if he was well. And he was grateful for their presence, even if they were a reminder of the duties that now called him. Their other companions were too exotic, or their lineage too much of a shock and a challenge for him to rest easy.

Buffy though he knew, and was sorry for his treatment of her at Gríma's persuasion, and he had respect for the wizard, Gandalf, his coming had saved his life, and perhaps that of Rohan.

Their silent comfort was a help, but it could not ease the agony in his heart. Lost in the leechcraft of Wormtongue and Saruman, he had neglected his country, his family and lost touch with the world completely, becoming only a breathing shell.

Théodred was slain at a battle he had had no idea of, his son and heir lost. Éomer was banished by his own decree. Loyal and valiant Éomer who had only tried to protect him, and his sister. And with him, he had taken a couple of thousand loyal men, who he feared would be badly needed soon. And Éowyn, who had nursed him in his dotage, her footsteps had been too long dogged by Gríma's filthy lechery, and pale she was, and cold. As a flower wilting in the frost. He had hurt every one of his kin left living by falling to Saruman's wiles. And it was a bitter taste to swallow.

And now war gathered at his borders; a war he could not win, and legends sprang up from the grass. And he was adrift, lost and yet his people looked to him for leadership. Éomer, the new heir, was gone. Long gone by now, and Éowyn was fragile inside, she too often thought of death in battle as her dream. Neither could help him much in the decisions that had to be made.

He twirled the seemingly innocent white flower in his hand, and then sighing, he dropped it to fall on the tomb of his son, "Simbelmynë." he said aloud, his first words since coming to the mounds, "Ever has it grown on the tombs of my forebears. Now it shall cover the grave of my son. Alas, that these evil days should be mine. The young perish and the old linger. That I should live to see the last days of my house…"

Gandalf stepped forward, "Théodred's death was not of your making." he said soothingly.

Théoden only bowed his head, "No parent should have to bury their child." he said as he wept.

Buffy looked at the king as he knelt at his son's graveside, and her heart went out to him, but she could not go to him. She was as much a stranger to him as he was to her.

Gandalf bowed his head solemnly, his voice low and respectful, "His was strong in life. His spirit will find its way to the halls of your fathers. Westu hál. Ferðu, Théodred, Ferðu."

Placing his hand on Buffy's shoulder, he silently told her that it was time to leave, and to leave the heartbroken king grieve in private. And silently she followed him. However, as she crested the hill, she spotted two figures on horseback and even as Gandalf in turn spotted them, she gave a cry as the boy on the horse fell from the horse, flopping to the ground.

Racing to their side, she dropped down next to the boy even as the girl was steadied by Gandalf and helped down from the mount, which was obviously exhausted, its coat slick with sweat.

She carefully examined the boy and relieved she looked at the wizard, even as Théoden joined them, "He is only exhausted. And in need of rest and some food," she said and Théoden bent to lift the boy, as he was too awkward for Buffy to carry.

Crossing to the girl, Buffy gently took her from Gandalf's arms, "Are you alright?" she asked the tired girl, "What are you doing here on your own?"

The girl looked at Buffy, eyes drooping with fatigue and a fat tear rolled down her cheek, "Mama said to come," she said, "She said that we had to raise the alarm." The girl sniffled and rubbed at her eyes, "Orcs came!" she wailed, "And they burned and killed! It was h-horrible!" she said as she started to weep.

Buffy's horrified eyes met Gandalf's and they both looked to Théoden.

Gandalf's voice was grave, "War has come to Rohan…"

-

When the king, wizard and slayer returned bearing two exhausted children with a dire warning, chaos momentarily descended on the Golden Hall.

Mistress of her uncle's halls, Éowyn immediately rushed to help Buffy who was tending to a gash on the young girl's leg, while Théoden carefully set down the elder boy, who was beginning to wake up.

Aragorn went to Gandalf, who looked worried, trying to find out what was wrong. "What happened Gandalf, why are they here?"

The wizard sighed, "They come bearing a warning." he said quietly, as Legolas and Gimli joined them, "Saruman's Uruk-hai ravage the Westfold, slaughtering its people and burning its houses and lands. The children were sent here to warn the king by their mother. That is all that we have been able to get out of them."

"So it has begun," Aragorn said, surprising himself with his steady tone, "And what little time we hoped to have is now gone. How soon until they reach Edoras?"

Gandalf's eyes darkened, "I cannot say. But I would wager that Saruman drives them hard. Nevertheless, however long we have, it is too little time. And Théoden's numbers are too few."

Gandalf drifted away to talk to Théoden, who looked troubled as he rightly should be, leaving Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli in silence.

Legolas sighed, "Mithrandir has much work ahead of him. I only wish that I were as certain of Théoden's strength as he is. I fear he wavers. Fear must not be allowed rule his decisions."

"These are his lands," Aragorn said, "And while the Eldar learned long ago that running was not an option, unless it be to the West, the memories of Men are short. But he will do as he thinks best."

The Elf was troubled himself, "I will go outside for a moment," he said softly, "I need to think."

Aragorn waved him away, and Gimli trotted after him, saying that he needed a good smoke somewhere where it was not so stuffy, leaving Aragorn standing alone.

Unbidden, his eyes were drawn to the two women tending the children. Buffy's healer training coming to the fore as it always did when war and battles did not call her. Buffy, still in travel stained warrior garb, and Éowyn, clad elegantly in brown and green, looked very different, for all their similarities. However, for some reason, he thought that Éowyn just might be Buffy's match for desire and courage. The young Shieldmaiden wished to be a warrior, and he thought that with experience, she would be a force to be reckoned with, for all her kinfolk's desire to keep her away from the hardships of war.

He watched Buffy and Éowyn fuss over the children and his heart twisted strangely as he looked at Buffy coaxing the little girl to eat. She would be a good mother, he thought, surprising himself. For one so used to war and its horrors, she was remarkably easy with Freda.

Her touch was gentle, though he knew those hands had more often held a weapon than anything else. And however tired she was, she still had energy to devote to tending to the children. There was something odd about seeing someone so crafted for giving death looking after children with all the compassion of a healer.

He wondered what she would choose if they won this war, and if Sauron was destroyed. Warrior or healer? Or neither perhaps? For all his gifts with foresight, her future lay shrouded from his view.

-

From across the room, Théoden watched the tender regard was seen in Aragorn's face as he looked at Buffy and he wondered at their relationship. Thorongil and Elliandre, as he knew them of old, were even more of a mystery than they had been then.

But if Aragorn really was Isildur's Heir of Gondor, then his slowness in ageing was explained. The line of Númenor was slow to wax and wane.

But Buffy was as golden as any of the Rohirrim, and shorter than the tall race of Gondor. The Dúnedain were dark haired and grey eyed, and tall and lordly in their fashion. Buffy looked nothing like them, so she was not of their kin, but yet, she had not aged much since he saw her. Her face was still unlined, her hair untouched by frost…

So what was she?

-

Théoden may have been blind for longer than he had ever dreamed of, but just because she travelled with the wizard that had pulled him back from the brink, did not mean that she would be allowed free run of the Riddermark without explanation.

He went to her, and immediately hazel eyes turned wary, but he knew that she would cause no scene in front of the children. They had seen enough trauma.

Taking her by the arm, he ignored her slight tensing and the sudden boring of a set of grey eyes into his back. He cared not what Aragorn thought.

He led her to a secluded nook in the room, and turned to face her. "What are you doing here, Elliandre?" he said brusquely.

"Helping to save your ass," she answered dryly, "And you appear so grateful too. Shouldn't I be the one asking why you dragged me over? In case you didn't notice, I do have some patients to tend to."

"You return to help a king that banished you?" Théoden said in disbelief, "And that was so many years ago. Yet you have not aged. You look of an age with my niece, but I know you are not. What devilry is this?"

"No devilry," Buffy said, "The Dúnedain have always led longer lives than other Men. And they age only slowly." The lie no longer made her wince.

Théoden arched an eyebrow, his whole stance screaming disbelief, "One of the Dúnedain? You? Do you expect me to believe that? Aragorn, I can believe is one, he is dour enough for one. You? With those looks? Who do expect to fool?"

"And you may be a king, but you're not my king, and I don't have to take this nonsense from you," Buffy said, a hint of warning in her voice.

"You will answer if you wish to remain in this land," Théoden said. "I know not what you are, but do not try to fool me by saying Dúnedain."

"I don't take orders." Buffy said tightly, "I do things my way. And I do not have to explain myself to you. As far as you are concerned, I am one of the good guys, which means until Saruman's off your back, you either like me or lump me. Either way, I'm staying."

His eyes narrowed, "You tread a fine line, Buffy," he said, emphasising her, for him, new name, "You would do well to hold that tart tongue of yours."

"Why?" she demanded infuriatingly, hands placed on her hips, "Because you say so? No way, Théoden _King_. I may be older than I look, but most people count that as a good thing. However, I am in no way affianced with the Dark Lord, Saruman or any of the other nasties you think I am. And I am insulted by your insinuations. In case you have forgotten, son of Thengel, I tried to warn you about Wormtongue how many years ago, but not only did you not listen to me, you threw me out of Rohan without any cause. Between the two of us, going on track records, you seem to have the worst judgement so why should I tolerate this abuse from you?"

He seethed in front of her, and his fists clenched, and her own anger simmered underneath her cool façade, but ere their fight could come to blows, someone intervened.

Aragorn stepped between them, and taking in the situation in a glance, he placed his arm on Buffy's elbow and spoke softly to her, "Go," he whispered, seeing those hazel chips of fire flash at him, the intensity of them somewhat strange to his eyes, even accustomed as he was to her temper, "You will do no good if you assault the King of this land. Wait until the battle is done and then you may hash out your differences. Go! Éowyn will be glad of your company. I shall calm him down."

Shooting Théoden another dark glower, she looked at the ranger, and surprisingly, gave in without comment, stalking away to find the other woman.

He watched her go, and when she was safely out of hearing range, he turned to Théoden. "I know not what passed between you," he said sternly, but there was steel in its undertones, "And I care not. But I say this to you, and I will only say it once, leave her alone."

"You dare threaten me?" Théoden said in incredulity.

"I do not have to," Aragorn replied, "She is more than capable of taking care of it herself, but I would not see her turn you black and blue, even for the insults you give her."

"She comes into my country, looking still the youth she was when she left. Would you let one such as she wander your lands, my lord Aragorn, _if_ you actually had any?"

The words had bite, and Aragorn's jaw tightened, "That is a matter for another day," he said firmly, "And one between you and I. But Buffy is a woman of honour, and has deeds of valour to her name that you can never hope to rival. Let her be. You need a warrior such as her on your side. Not against you."

Théoden looked at the protective light in Aragorn's eyes, and felt his suspicions confirmed. Whatever madness the man held, he had somehow managed to ensnare himself with that viper of a woman. But other words surprised him too, for one so obviously loathe to see her come to any harm.

"You will let your lady fight?" Théoden asked in surprise.

Aragorn smiled wryly, but it did not reach his eyes, "She is not yet my lady, and the Valar themselves could seldom dissuade her from such a course once she has set her mind upon it."

The ranger stepped back, but his final words were final, "Leave her be, Théoden King, or it shall be far more than only her that would come after you. She has many friends, and many of them stand higher than you."

-

__

Meduseld, Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 2- evening.

When both children had been sufficiently recovered to tell the tale in full, they had been given full bowls of stew, and even now, Éowyn sat beside them watchfully, as the debate raged around them.

The young Shieldmaiden quivered with rage, and the damning knowledge of what was surely to come. "They had no warning." she said, directing her words at her silent uncle, "They were unarmed. Defenceless… Now the wildmen are moving through the Westfold, burning as they go. Rick, cot and tree… Are they to do so unchallenged? Are we to watch while the Mark burns?"

Beside her, the little girl cringed at the sharp tones, "Where is mama?" Freda said, hiccupping and Éowyn was forced to subside to take care of her cries, but her eyes still burned into Théoden's.

Gandalf leaned on his staff. His face was very grave, but he could no predict which way Théoden would go, "This is but a taste of the terror that Saruman will unleash." he warned, "All the more potent for he is driven mad by fear of Sauron. He will not stop until every man, woman and child is dead. You must do something. Ride out and meet him head on. Draw him away from your women and children." He placed a hand on Théoden's chair, forcing the king to look at him, which he did warily, "You must fight."

Aragorn was seated beside Buffy, and his steady gaze was fixed on the Horse-lord, "You have more support than you know. You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak. Éomer is your nephew and he is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their king. You must call them back."

Théoden sighed and his eyes were darkened with despair and fatigue, "They will be three hundred leagues from here by now." he said dismissively, "Éomer cannot help us now.

"You tell me that not even one of the Mearas could not catch up with them in time?" Buffy said in disbelief, "Have you not carrier-birds? Anything? You need him, call him back! You need the full Éoherë!"

His eyes flickered with anger at the sight of the woman, "It will do not good," he said sternly, "I know what it is that you want of me. But I will not bring further death to my people. They have suffered enough. I will not risk open war."

Buffy glowered and near to her, Gimli took a bite of his bread as he patted her hand soothingly. He had seen enough of that slayer temper to want to witness another scene now.

Aragorn did not flinch, "Open war is upon you. Whether you would risk it or not." he said levelly.

Théoden looked back at him stonily, and his voice was as hard as iron, "When last I looked, Théoden, not Aragorn, was king of Rohan." he said testily, and Gimli nearly spat out his drink at the clearly challenging words. Legolas just shook his head minutely. Let Aragorn take care of it, he signalled silently.

Éowyn, however, did not take the insult well, "Why can you not listen to him, uncle?" she demanded, "If Saruman is coming for us, what can we do but meet him in battle?"

"Be silent, Éowyn," Théoden said sharply, "To meet him in battle here would be disaster. I know not what forces he has at his command, but I would wager it would be more than mine."

"So what will you do?" Buffy asked, "Crawl under a rock and hope he passes you by? Théoden, don't you understand? Sauron will strike at Gondor soon, and he leaves Saruman to strike at you. There is no escape, except be it in the victory."

"I care not what you have to say," Théoden said, "This is my lands, and these are my people, and I cannot dare risk open war."

Gandalf just looked at him, "Then what is the king's decision?" he said diffidently.

"The city will empty. We will go to Helms Deep," Théoden announced, "And whatever force Saruman sends against us, will break on the walls of the fortress. No enemy has ever entered the Hornburg while we defended it."

"Helms Deep!" Éowyn cried, "How are we ever to make it in time?"

"You're walling yourself in," Buffy said quietly, "You go in, and you won't be able to come back out."

"She is right," Aragorn agreed, "Saruman comes to destroy you, not to let you be."

"Stop this, all of you!" Théoden bellowed, silencing the whole room, "I am king here, and my word is law. My decision is final. Let that be the end of it."

"As you wish, Théoden King," Aragorn said tightly, and standing up, he left the room. Legolas and Buffy shared a glance; Aragorn's temper was up and someone had to calm him down. Shooting an apologetic glance at Gandalf, Legolas went after the ranger.

Gamling crossed to the King, "Do you wish me to prepare your order, Your Majesty?" he asked.

"The city is to empty, by order of the king," Théoden said. And by Eorl, let me be doing the right thing, he thought inwardly.

-

Éowyn could not help but feel her heart flutter strangely every time she looked at Aragorn. She knew who he was now, a king to be. But he seemed so much more than that. He was strong, used to battles and hardships and yet nobility was in his glance and in his actions. He seemed to her to be such a man that would let his lady fight if she wished.

Let her fight if she wished.

He could bring her the glory she craved, could bring her away from the cramped walls of her bower into more joyous times. Oh, if he would only look at her!

He was to be King of Gondor, but his heart was noble and generous and his mind keen. The lady who would be his wife should be a happy woman. Moreover, she sensed that he would allow his wife much more liberties and freedom than half the stuffy old lords whose presence she had suffered through.

She blushed at her thoughts, especially since he had not even given her the slightest hint of any regard for her. But she could not help but dream… If she could not dream, what comfort had she, locked away here as she was? Protected until she felt like screaming?

She flushed again as knowing hazel eyes met hers with a curious emotion in their depths, one that she could not make out. She was sure that the indomitable Elliandre- no, Buffy now - knew of her deepening regard for Lord Aragorn, and she was not sure how she felt about that.

But then again, Buffy had travelled with him. Mayhap she could tell her if she even stood a chance? She had seen an exquisite jewel around his neck, and wondered if a lady had given it to him.

Her resolve strengthening, she looked at Buffy. Maybe it would be worth the embarrassment of asking…. Maybe he would be worth the embarrassment of asking…

-

In his rooms, having sent a concerned Legolas away, Aragorn pondered on the newest developments in the ever convoluted relationship between Buffy and him.

He was not oblivious to the Lady Éowyn's regard for him, even if he did not acknowledge it. He knew it not to be true. It was hero worship that he saw in her eyes. She thought that he could take her away from her nightmares, but he could not. Only she could do that.

However, he had seen the slight narrowing of Buffy's eyes when she had noticed Éowyn's frequent glances at him, and unbidden, his training in mischief came back to him. Oh, he had a plan worthy of the twins at their worst…

After all, when one was dealing with noble Ladies, and possible Queens, not to mention a slayer, one had to be sneaky. Devious, even.

He had to hold back a chuckle as he mused on it. If Buffy had thought his approach changed before…. Well, she would just have to learn that she could not run from him.

He would not allow it.

-

After Aragorn and Legolas had left, and Éowyn had taken the children to find a place to sleep, Buffy stalked over to Théoden.

"What do you want?" he asked shortly when he saw her.

"With all due respect Théoden, you're beginning to bore the hell out of me." Buffy said, "Try to get a different response, won't you? I get so tired of the same old insults."

"I would rather be fighting you than listening to this drivel," Théoden said angrily, "But as you are a woman, I will let this slide."

"Oh trust me, the feeling's mutual." Buffy drawled, "You are acting like you have stones for brains."

"I do not want to hear your opinions on anything… Buffy," he said firmly, "Just go."

"Well, I never asked for your permission to give them," Buffy said, "Helms Deep… what are you thinking? Do you not think that Gríma will tell Saruman that you'll go there first?"

"The city lacks enough men to defend it. Too many left with Éomer, or have gone to the Westfold or Eastfold." Théoden said tightly, "Am I to make the women and children fight as well? Or do I take them to safety like I must?"

"If you include me in that 'women and children' spiel, I will hit you." Buffy said, noticing the way he eyed her height.

"You would not be even able to see over the Deeping wall." he said derisively.

"So I stand on a rock or something? Who cares? I'm certainly a better shot than you are. But then again, you don't think that I would. Or could."

"Would what?" Théoden ground out in frustration when he realised that she was not going to leave him alone.

"Save you." she said, "Which is like, so outdated. Menfolk not always around to protect the womenfolk, you know? Besides, what if it turned out you were the guy I had to fight? Could happen. You were making with the crazy while Wormtongue was here."

"You may not be a normal woman, Buffy," he said, "But you have no authority here. Do not overstep your bounds."

"Sorry," Buffy said, fake apologetically, "It's sorta my job. I have to tell you things that no one else will. Because you need to hear them."

Her mocking tone left to be replaced with seriousness, and her face was solemn, "Saruman won't stop by burning the Westfold, or even Edoras to the ground. Sauron has ordered him to help destroy the world of Men, and since there are really only two big realms left, you get the dubious pleasure of being the first to go under. He will come and he will not stop until every man, woman and child with the blood of Rohan are dead and your realm is totally and irrevocably destroyed. The land of Rohan will be stained red with blood and as the tales grow, if any survive to spread them, people will avoid this place like they do the Dead Marshes." she said, painting him a chilling picture as she spoke, "Your house will die. Slaughtered. Éowyn might survive, Wormtongue seemed to want her for a plaything badly enough. However, it would not be a fate that I would wish on her. Your people will die in fire, and steel and torment. Your head will probably be placed on a pike. The bodies of your dead will be used in orc and Uruk-hai cook pots. This is what will happen if you do not take your head out of the sand. Beware, Théoden King, lest you make a mistake and Rohan dies. Forever."

He gaped at her, as she flounced out of the room and he saw both wizard and Dwarf smothering smirks and suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

"At least I know where Éowyn learned it," he muttered, thinking of his fiery niece. Buffy would just more trouble than she was worth in his opinion. Well, he thought with some relief, at least it would be Aragorn that would have to deal with her and not him.

Now if only he could get her chilling words out of his head…

-

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Orthanc, 3019 TA, March 2

In the tower of Orthanc, a wizard stalked like a caged line, the rage that filled him reverberating throughout the room.

How dare that lowly fool of a wizard challenge him! He was master of the Tower, he was aligned with Barad-dûr, he was powerful, and all that that fool fought for would be swept away by the power of Sauron and Saruman.

But even reminding himself of that could not cool his rage, and so he ranted; the sight of the snivelling Gríma only annoying him further. "Gandalf the White!" he snapped, "Gandalf the Fool. Does he seek to humble me with his newfound piety?"

Gríma approached him cautiously from behind, eager to try to regain the wizard's favour, "There were four who followed the wizard. An Elf, a Dwarf, a woman and a Man."

Saruman sniffed and turned, nose wrinkling at the sight of him, "You stink of horse." he snapped, and then paused, "The Man… was he from Gondor? And the woman too?"

Gríma shook his head, "No, he was from the North. One of the Dúnedain rangers, I thought he was. His cloth was very poor and worn. And yet he bore a strange ring. Two serpents with emerald eyes. One devouring, the other crowned with golden flowers."

Saruman's eyes widened, "And the woman?" he said. Surely it could not be?

"She was from the north also, but she rode with the Rohirrim many years ago," Gríma said, loathing in his voice. "She was banished by Théoden ere she could foil our plans. Clear of sight she is, and rumour says that she is the ranger's lady."

"Did she have any tokens? What did she look like?"

Gríma shook his head, "Not that I could see. And she could pass for one of the Rohirrim. She is golden of hair, and fair of face. Petite though."

"And a warrior?" the wizard asked softly, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, possessed of strange strength for a woman." Gríma answered, "And friendly with the king's niece."

"The one you were to take for yourself?" Saruman hissed knowingly, "You have done some good, Wormtongue. Not enough to make up for your botching things up in Edoras, but enough so that you shall live. Leave me!"

Alone at last, he went to his library and searched until he found the volume he was looking for. After flicking through the pages, he finally found what he was looking for. A picture of the ring that Gríma had described. "The Ring of Barahir…" he read in wonder, "So Gandalf Greyhame thinks he has found Isildur's heir. The lost king of Gondor. He is a fool. The line was broken years ago. And he paired with a witch trained by Galadriel. An interesting choice of pawns..."

He waved a hand, as if to dismiss his own worries, "It matters not. The world of Men shall fall. It will begin at Edoras..."

-

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A/N: Well? Feedback wanted please! How do you like what's happening? Please **READ **and **REVIEW!**

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Next chapter: Buffy and Éowyn get chatty… Aragorn shows his devious streak…. The grapevine works overtime…. And Théoden comes to some decisions…

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Elvish:

Dúnadan - man of the West

Dagnir - slayer

Mithrandir - Grey Pilgrim

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Rohirric

Westu hál. Ferðu, Théodred, Ferðu - Be-thou well. Go-thou, Théodred, go-thou.

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Dwimordene - the name in Rohan for the Golden Wood of Lothlórien. It has generally been villainised by superstition, old wives' and soldiers' tales of the Lady who dwells there, and how she weaves her spells with sorcerers and net-weavers. All completely untrue, but none of the Rohirrim have ever gone near the Wood and they fear it.

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Éoherë - term used by the Rohirrim for the full muster of their cavalry.

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Éomer - son of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2991. Has lived with Théoden King since his parents death 3002.

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Éomund of Eastfold - Chief Marshal of the Mark. Would go on to be brother-in-law to Théoden King of Rohan and father to Éomer and Éowyn.

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Éowyn - daughter of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2995. Has lived with Théoden King since her parents death 3002.

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Gríma Wormtongue - Counsellor of King Théoden and agent of Saruman.

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Háma - Captain of the household of King Théoden.

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Heren Istarion - Order of Wizards

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Hornburg - fortress in Rohan at the entrance to Helm's Deep

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Orthanc - the great Númenórean tower in the Circle of Isengard. Home of Saruman.

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Théodred - Son of King Théoden of Rohan, slain in the First Battle of the Fords of Isen.

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Thorongil - 'eagle of the star'. Aragorn's alias when he served as an officer to Ecthelion II, Steward of Gondor and when he rode with the Rohirrim under King Thengel.

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	42. Shieldmaiden

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Aragorn and Buffy's strained relationship ever be resolved? What will Aragorn do with the information, the secret, which he now knows? What has Arwen planned? And what will happen when the Three rise up in fury? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty when she's now the hunted? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? In addition, what path does Boromir now follow?

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Author's notes: Thanks for all your reviews! Sorry for the slight delay, but I had a whole week of mock final exams this week so I've been super busy! Anyone else out there doing the Irish pre-Leaving Certificate will obviously know how I've been swamped!

And I think you are all eagerly anticipating some Aragorn/Buffy/Éowyn disasters…

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Review responses:

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Allen Pitt - depends on how he plans to do it…

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Anyanka of the Ocean - okay! Understanding now. Thanks! And awww!

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Boo - I do not think Éowyn is going to challenge Buffy in that way!

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ChibiChibi - thanks! And I totally understand, I have been swamped as well. (Sighs…) Oh well… hope you like my little love triangle numero 2!

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GoldenRat - depends on whose POV you're looking at.

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GreyLadyBast - An interesting interpretation to be sure. Okay, first off, it is only ONE line. ONE line out of how many hundred thousand? Two, the movie completely sidestepped it. Three, it's a line that much significance is placed on without reason. It was largely a coincidence. The number couldn't be too big or too small for obvious reasons. The Hobbits were allowed go by Gandalf, Boromir was joining them grudgingly, Aragorn had to go, Gandalf told Elrond he was going and that left two races unrepresented hence Gimli and Legolas's inclusion. And I merged book and movie verse to create my council. Four, I don't think it is a plot hole. Fifth, Buffy is not a Mary Sue. Mary Sue's are OC's who usurp everything. Six, I resent the word 'crap' being used in relation to my fic. This is my interpretation of a book. It is not canon though I have chosen to try to make it realistic. The minute Buffy landed in ME, the LotR part became AU. In addition, the Nine riders were not the only danger they faced. And it is a little silly to base the number of the company solely on that. I mean there was Sauron, Saruman, orcs, Uruk-hai, Gollum, cave trolls, Balrogs etc. Now, I could fix this 'glaring mistake' but as I don't consider it a mistake and therefore unworthy of a re-write, I am leaving it the way it is.

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Kit-Kat - thanks!

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Light Spinner - thanks! And yes, the whole triangle thing is going to get messy. Just not in the way you might have expected. And I think Aragorn is going to use this one to his advantage.

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Lizdarcy2 - You are so underestimating him!

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Mari - thanks! Yes, I think you should feel sorry for her. And when did I say that about Aragorn and Denethor? I can't remember. But about the Paths of the Dead… closely kept secret there… And she probably is getting tired of calling a witch. But do remember what she was accused of and thrown out of Rohan for…

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Nikos - thanks! And the warg raid will happen.

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Pamie884 - thanks! And thanks for your comments on Éowyn. You are the first person to comment on my attempts to get inside her head! Glad it's plausible!

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PrecariousPersonata - thanks! And his 'plans' are certainly unique. And Buffy will get jealous, somewhat, but she has no idea what Aragorn has in store for her!

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Rosie - thanks and welcome! A lot of people are wondering what Galadriel's message means. However something you said in your review is kinda prophetic in regard to the sequel.

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ShawThang - thanks! And of course, they are going to cause more trouble! That's what hotheads tend to do! A lot. And yes, Aragorn will be playing this a little. And you are definitely right; Éowyn does not stand a chance!

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Sukera - huh? Explain please!

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Talina - welcome! And thanks! And yes, there is a hint for the sequel there! Well spotted! Pity I am not telling what… thanks for your comments on 'A Light' but someone has asked me if they could continue it and I said yes. I don't know when they plan on posting, but it was around a month ago or so that I gave them permission… watch that space…

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Tenshikoneko03 - thank you! And I didn't mean to give you nightmares (shrugs apologetically) And what do you think he is going to do? And yes, there is a very good chance Buffy will hang him up by his toes, but I think he has it under control….

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And major thanks to:

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Aleviel, Avendesoraburns, BuffyandDracoLover, Fenn, General Mac, Goldenshadows, Haley, icybananna89, jumping-jo, Lindiel Eryn, Lunawolf, Night-Owl123, Siren's Call, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Wild320,

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CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: SHIELDMAIDEN

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"A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on."

- Winston Churchill

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Meduseld, Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 2 - night.

After Éowyn had seen the children safely tucked into bed, she debated whether to visit her old friend or not. In the end, curiosity won out, and having assigned Buffy her rooms, easily found herself at the warrior maiden's door.

Knocking somewhat timidly, unsure what to expect from the other woman after so long, she was so lost in thought that she gasped when the door opened. Buffy was clad only in her sleeping clothes, Éowyn had obviously caught her just before she went to bed.

"Éowyn?" Buffy said in surprise, "What are you doing here? At this hour?"

Éowyn shifted uncomfortably, but gathered her courage, "I came to talk," she replied as calmly as befitted a Lady of Rohan.

Buffy blinked and rubbed her eyes tiredly, but opened the door wider, "Come in then," she said, allowing the lady into her rooms.

Éowyn could not help but look around curiously. Buffy's travelling clothes were tossed over the back of a chair, her pack was sticking out from under the bed, and her weapons were casually placed on top of a dresser. That typically warrior way of tossing everything aside clashed with the comb by the mirror, and the sleeve of a dress sticking out from the open pack. Éowyn wondered was this typical for the other woman. Buffy was the only female warrior that she had ever known, and since she wanted to be one as well, she could not help but look at everything Buffy did with curiosity and longing.

Buffy gestured for Éowyn to take the chair, and sank down onto the bed, "So Éowyn, what are you doing here? It will be a busy day in the morning."

"I am sorry," Éowyn said, "I did not wish to disturb your rest. But it has been so long since I have last seen you. I could not restrain myself from coming."

Buffy waved away her apologies, "It's alright. Théoden could not help rehashing the past either. Though I do see that he managed to tame you somewhat. On the outside at least." Her voice softened, "How do you fare after Théodred's death? It must have been a hard blow."

"He died as a warrior should," Éowyn said stiffly, unwilling to think on her cousin's bloodied form.

"He died in battle?" Buffy repeated, sure that she had heard that he had been brought home ere he died. But then again, Éowyn had always had a one track mind.

"It is a family tradition." Éowyn said tightly, and Buffy backed off. She still remembered a young girl's unrelenting determination to be a warrior.

"I am a Shield-maiden of the House of Eorl!" Éowyn declared proudly, "I fear him not! And if he seeks to harm me, I shall show him my steel!"

At least, she had not run Gríma through after all, Buffy thought, but I fear he did more damage to her alive than he would have dead.

"Éowyn, it's late. Let's just cut to the chase and say what you want to say." Buffy said, "I do want to talk to you, but Théoden's ordered the city to go to Helms Deep tomorrow and it's going to be a long day."

"I want you to help me," Éowyn said bluntly, leaning forward in the chair, "You are a warrior. You will be allowed to fight. I want you to teach me what I do not know. I am skilled with a sword now. Help me to become a warrior."

Buffy winced inwardly, thinking of Théoden's reaction if she slayer-ised his niece. And decided that Éowyn had the right to make her own decisions.

"Éowyn," she began quietly but earnestly, "Are you sure you know what you're letting yourself in for? Being a warrior…. It isn't all glory. In fact, there is generally very little glory and a lot of blood, death and suffering. I never chose this path myself. It was chosen for me. And while I have accepted what I am, and what I can do, if I had the choice, I wouldn't be doing it."

"Not even when it is your family, your people, your country at stake?" Éowyn demanded, "Do not give me the same platitudes my uncle has given me since you left. I care not for suffering."

Buffy sighed; this was going to be harder than she thought. "Yes, I would fight for those I care for. However, it is not the only way. Killing changes you. It always does. Moreover, you can think you know what you are setting yourself up for, but the truth is, you never do. And Éowyn this war is going to be huge. Chances are that we will all die fighting it. Are you so willing to throw away your life? Before you've even lived?"

"I know the realties of war, Ell- Buffy," Éowyn said sharply, "Do not take me for the same delicate maiden my uncle and brother see me as."

"That is the last thing I would take you for, Éowyn," Buffy said with some amusement, eyeing blue eyes spitting with fire, "It doesn't mean that I'm eager to help you get yourself killed. You're like a child throwing herself into an adult's game. Do you want to know what being a warrior is like? Well, there's very few of us who do not wish for peace. But I think the worst thing is that every day you wake up, it is the same question that haunts you- Is today the day I die- that's no way to live Éowyn."

"I am not a child!" Éowyn cried.

"I never said that you were," Buffy said wearily, "But until you've actually seen a battle or a skirmish, you're still a green warrior. And the more experienced ones always try to look out for the new warriors, because, as a rule, they do not know what they are doing. Look, Éowyn, I will spar with you. I will help you learn a few new tricks. But I am telling you this right now; Théoden is pulling everyone back to Helms Deep. And so Saruman's army is going to come there. Either way, you're going to see bloodshed before the end. And if you get yourself killed just to prove yourself, then I have obviously overestimated your intelligence. Listen to reason, and wise up before you throw yourself into the deep end. Once you have some experience under your belt, then everything is different. But don't be so eager to throw away your innocence. Because you can never get it back."

"I can fight!"

"I know you can. But listen to my advice, because I am ten times more lenient than Théoden will be if he finds that you plan on helping out. You have to watch your own back as well, Éowyn, that's all I am saying. You cannot go out there with a death wish. Because if you do, it will be fulfilled."

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Whatever reply Éowyn might have made was lost when a knock came to the door. And after a moment, Gandalf poked his head in.

Standing up, Éowyn gave the slayer a brief nod before she swept out of the room with nary a word. The wizard watched her go with knowing eyes. "Ah, the impetuousness of youth," he said, "'Tis strange indeed when the slayer herself promotes caution."

Buffy threw her cushion at him, hitting him in the face. He glared at her reprovingly, but let it pass.

He closed the door, and took the chair that Éowyn had just vacated, "We have much to talk of, Buffy Dagnir," he said without preamble.

Buffy flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, "You know, I'm not really in the mood for any more heart to heart talks, Gandalf," she said, "Can't this wait?"

"Well, I would have thought that Narya could not wait, but then again, you always insist on being different." the wizard said slyly

Buffy banged her head off the bedpost, "What?" she said, "Oh no! Not that again! It's bad enough that I'm stuck minding the damn thing!"

"When are you going to accept that it is yours?" Gandalf asked calmly, "Because I dare say that you should know how to control it at least."

"I don't want to learn anything!" Buffy said fiercely, "What I do want is for you to take it back! Don't you think I have enough responsibility as it is?"

Gandalf did not waver in the face of the slayer's rant, Narya chose you, and it cannot now be undone. You must accept this, Buffy, Narya is bound to you and you to it. It will defend you to your dying breath. You cannot run from this. It will not let you."

"Well, that's comforting," Buffy snapped, "Look, I don't want this. I do not understand why of all people it picked me, but I really want it to just change its mind, and leave me the hell alone. And I really don't appreciate you trying to force this on me."

Gandalf just raised one bushy eyebrow, "I am merely trying to prepare you for what is coming, my girl," he said, an annoying sparkle in his eyes, "You go to war, Dagnir. And Narya will not let danger come so close to you now that it is free from all constraints. Elrond and Galadriel will experience much the same problem. In fact, they are already experiencing it. The power of the Three has been unleashed, and I do not think that either Imladris or Lothlórien have ever been safer. Nevertheless, Elrond and Galadriel are struggling to cope with the new Vilya and Nenya. They have been so long tied to their bearer, that I wager they are now taking them by surprise in their power. Narya has not been so long tied to you, but it was the first ring freed and your death the thing to do it. I would try to control your temper if I were you. You bear the Ring of Fire, and I do not think that Théoden would take it well if you burned down his halls."

Buffy stared at him in dismay, "Tell me you are joking," she pleaded, "'Cos I really don't like what you are saying at the moment."

"Buffy," Gandalf said, standing, "You wield as much power now as a queen does. I only tell you to use it wisely. Especially since you do not have the slightest idea what you are doing. If Narya acts on your behalf, chances are that you will not realise it before it is done."

Before Buffy could demand more information, Gandalf went to the door and opened it, just as Aragorn had his hand raised to knock. "Ah," he said to the bemused slayer, "It seems our guests have arrived."

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"I am so not going to get any sleep tonight, am I?" Buffy complained as Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas trooped into the room to join her and the wizard.

"Be calm, Buffy," Gandalf said with a sly smile due to lack of room and chairs, Aragorn was forced to sit on the bed beside Buffy. The slayer seemed too frustrated to shy away from his presence, instead looking at Gandalf with a decidedly unamused expression.

"Now, I think we all agree that Théoden's decision is a bad one," Gandalf said, "And so we must make our own plans."

"Us and what army, Gandalf?" Buffy asked dryly, "And why could this not wait until the morning?"

"He chooses to flee, thinking that it will save his people. That fortress has saved them before." Aragorn said, "He underestimates the threat."

"He does not want open war," Gandalf said, "But at Helms Deep, the defences must hold. We cannot allow Rohan to fall. If either Gondor or the Mark fall, then the last realm standing shall be crushed between Saruman and Sauron, and the last bastions of Free Men destroyed."

"We know the defences have to hold, Gandalf," Buffy said, "But unless Erkenbrand and his forces have made it there before us and ahead of any pursuers, we'll be stuck with only what guard Théoden has left in Edoras. And that's not enough."

"I do not think we can rely on luck," Legolas added, "One should never underestimate one of the Istari."

"I fear Legolas is right," Gandalf admitted, "I know not what devilry Saruman will throw at us. But it matters not, Helms Deep must be held."

"You make it sound like you will not be there." Gimli said, "What are you planning, Gandalf?"

"Only what I must, Master Dwarf, only what I must."

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Buffy could only sigh wearily when Legolas stubbornly remained behind, and she stoked the small fire as wondered what he wanted. "Don't you have an elsewhere to be?" she asked.

"I think not," the Elf replied, "And I wonder at your calm. Have you eyes? I am not the only one who saw how Éowyn looks at Aragorn? She thinks him unclaimed. Are you not angry at all?"

Buffy's smile was wan as she sank into a chair, pulling a blanket around her, "How can I be angry with her for the same crime I committed myself?" she said softly.

Legolas just looked at her, "And yet some part of you calls him yours. You would not be so angry with him the whole time if you did not feel something."

Buffy glared at him, "It wasn't like that. I was never angry with him." she paused, seeing the Elf's incredulous expression, "Okay, that's a lie. Maybe I was just a teensy weensy bit mad at him. But he so deserved it. And besides, Éowyn is a grown woman, she can like who she wants to like." But her voice tightened traitorously as she said it.

"Aragorn cannot return her feelings, Buffy," Legolas said soothingly, "Are you going to let her lose her heart, only to have it broken?"

"Maybe she's exactly the type of woman Aragorn should be going for," Buffy said quietly, voicing her own innermost thoughts, "She's certainly stubborn enough for his tastes. She's the niece of a king, sister to the heir to the throne, beautiful, a Shieldmaiden… why should he not look?"

"You plan to let her regard for him go unchallenged?" Legolas asked in disbelief.

"Legolas," Buffy said wearily but firmly, "Besides… other considerations… I'm a killer. It is pretty much public knowledge. I have no real connections, I'm not nobly born- and no alliances come with the package and certainly no dowry except a death wish. And I certainly have no talent for diplomacy. Also, I'm not exactly mommy material. Kings seldom marry for love, meldiren, and we don't live in a fairytale. Even if we were both free, Aragorn is going to have enough trouble getting his throne and keeping it to try to deal with any unrest over his murderess lover. I am not stupid. I don't know why you keep pushing for this, but I really wish you would just shut up."

"Buffy, I…" Legolas began but the slayer just pointed at the door.

"I don't care, Greenleaf," she said sternly, crossing over to Legolas and dragging him out the door, "Good night, and do not speak of this to me again."

****

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Meduseld, Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 3.

Aragorn made it his business to rise early the next morning, and he lingered outside Buffy's chambers until he heard the tell tale signs of someone moving around inside them. Knocking softly, knowing she would hear it easily, he waited.

She blinked in surprise at the sight of him, but let him in when he asked. "Do my rooms have a 'please disturb as much as possible' sign of them?" she groused, "'Cos I got to say, I've never seen such traffic in and out of my bedroom before." She caught Aragorn's smirk and then replayed her words, wincing mentally, "Okay, just ignore that last bit," she said.

"As you command, so do I obey," Aragorn said drolly, causing her to roll her eyes.

"What do you want this early, Aragorn?" she asked.

"I have a problem," he said, careful to keep his voice sincere. For this to work, he had to play this out skilfully. "Of a personal nature… It concerns the Lady Éowyn."

That got her attention and the bait was working. "Éowyn?" she repeated, "What problem do you have with her?" she asked, belting her sword and knives around her waist.

"Have you noticed how she looks at me?" Aragorn said innocently, "It seems that for some reason, she has fixed on me as her object."

"So the mooning eyes say," Buffy replied, braiding her hair back into a thick coil, which she then pinned to her head, not wanting to repeat Glorfindel's infamous mistake, which led to his also infamous death, "Why are you coming to me with this?"

"Because I know you were friends of old with Éowyn," Aragorn answered, sitting down on a chair, "I think that you are one of few who can understand my dilemma. She is a magnificent lady, beautiful and strong, but she does not see me for who I am. Only this 'Lord Aragorn'."

"You _are _a lord," Buffy said, "And on his way to being king. Methinks you will have to get used to fawning."

"Buffy, be serious! You know this is a dilemma," Aragorn admonished, and then set his trap, "And surely you can see my problem. Lady Éowyn is the king's niece. If I spurn her advances then I insult Théoden King. With matters as unstable as they currently stand, you cannot but see that giving the king any more insult would be a bad thing."

It worked as he hoped it would. Hazel eyes looked thoughtful and though she grimaced, she finally nodded in agreement, "Yep, I can see your point. I think you kind of forget the part where Éowyn runs you through with her sword and then her brother finishes the job though. Yep, definitely a dilemma. And one that I so cannot help you with. Perhaps you should start practicing your grovelling for forgiveness routine?"

"Buffy!" Aragorn said sternly, "This is no laughing matter."

"I know that," she replied even as Aragorn stood and took her hand in his. She eyed him reproachfully.

"Buffy…." he began awkwardly, careful to keep the mischievous glint in his eyes veiled from her, "I-I have an idea that could solve this problem without giving insult to anyone…"

Her eyebrow rose in a startling imitation of Elrond's infamous look, "You do?" she repeated incredulously, "Then you have a better imagination than I do, 'cos I can't see a way out of this mess without treading on someone's toes."

"It is an idea, mellon," Aragorn said carefully, "And would require your cooperation to work."

Buffy gave him a strange look at his hesitant tone, and asked warily, "And this idea would be…?"

"It is the only one that I can conceive of that will not hurt Éowyn or insult the King," Aragorn explained, "And I think it can work admirably well. If we can pull it off. I think it worthy of the twins myself."

"Whoa!" Buffy said, "Slow down, Aragorn. What is this great idea exactly? 'Cos you're doing an admirable job of not saying what it is."

He looked at her pleadingly, "Well…" he began, "Please hear me out, without hurting me first."

"Fine, I promise not to whack on you," Buffy agreed, both curious and wary, "Spill it, ranger."

"Well, Lady Éowyn's infatuation can only be spurred onwards if she thinks me unattached." Aragorn said softly, watching Buffy's reactions, "She is a woman of honour though and would forget about me entirely if I was attached…."

"But you said yourself that you're not," Buffy pointed out, "And if I find out that you've been lying to me, all bets are off buddy!"

"Buffy, all I need is to pretend that I am attached to someone else, and this crisis will pass without notice."

"And how are you going to manage that?" the slayer demanded.

"Well, I was thinking that because you travelled with us, that perhaps if we pretended to Éowyn- only Éowyn - that we are betrothed, she would back off gracefully."

"You_ what_!" Buffy said, jerking out of his hold, "Are you absolutely out of your mind! No, no and triple no!"

"Buffy, please listen to me," Aragorn pleaded, grabbing her by the arms, "I need this help mellon. I hardly think Gandalf can help me with this plan. Or Gimli. Or Legolas."

"Now, you've just given me this really weird image of Gimli in a dress," Buffy said in disgust, nose wrinkling, "Gross. Thank you so much for that nightmare!"

"Buffy, please. I beg this favour of you," Aragorn said pleadingly, forcing her to meet his eyes, "Please… It shall not be for long. A few days at most. And nothing untoward is involved. All I have to do is say that you hold my heart to Éowyn and it is done. Do you not wish for me to let her down gently?"

Buffy could not resist the pleading note in his voice, combined with the puppy dog eyes, and though her better judgement warned her against it, she reluctantly caved.

"Fine," she ground out, "Tell her whatever you want. As long as it is just her. And that you realise that this has absolutely no effect on our current relationship. No cuddling, no smirking, no nothing. Got it?"

Aragorn smiled wholeheartedly. Success! "Of course not," he agreed with an admirably straight face, "Nothing improper whatsoever. I thank you for this, Buffy," he said, kissing her on the cheek and just barely ducking her swat with her hairbrush.

She glared at him and he smiled winningly at her, "This puts my mind much at ease," he said, "Now that I will not have Théoden King after my head any more than he already is. I thank you again, Buffy. You shall not regret this."

"Too late." she said dryly, as the ranger went out the door, "I think I already am…"

And Aragorn, once out in the corridor, broke out into a triumphant smirk. Oh, even the twins would be impressed by this one….

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Early that morn, Háma stood outside Meduseld in front of a crowd of worried townsfolk. Ignoring Gandalf's disapproving eyes; he carried out the commands of the king. Calling out, he said, "By order of the king, the city must empty! We make for the refuge of Helm's Deep tomorrow at dawn. Do not burden yourselves with treasures or many belongings. Take only what provisions you need."

Instantly, there was uproar and Háma was forced to bellow over the shouts and cries of the townsfolk, "Please! Be calm! Helms Deep is safe! But please, pack your things and be ready for the morn! Please calm down!"

Eventually, the uproar died away and the townsfolk scurried away to pack and make ready. It was not the first time that they had been forced to Helms Deep but this was very short notice.

His forehead furrowing, Gandalf watched on with a sense of growing dread. But then he turned on his heel, and returned to the halls. He had much to do and his time was growing ever shorter.

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Later that day, Aragorn joined Gimli in his pursuit of a good tavern. He might not have his Dwarven friend's fondness for ale, but he certainly had some business to tend to - and some rumours to spread.

It was not hard.

Men preparing for war were gladly indulging in their ale and mead, and tongues wagged faster here than anywhere else save the servants' quarters at Meduseld. Gossip was a truly wonderful thing when you wanted to get a message across, Aragorn mused; after all, it tended to travel much faster than messengers did and could reach everyone in the entire town in under an hour.

Gimli and Legolas soon left him; the Elf dragging the Dwarf away from the 'accursed stink of that intolerable pipeweed' that the Elf just could not stand. Aragorn preferred it that way. 'Twas why he had brought his pipe with him in the first place.

And so with many of the Rohirrim looking for tales behind the myth of Thorongil, and others looking for information on Elliandre, Aragorn had everyone just where he wanted them.

Therefore, he 'accidentally' let slip exactly what he wanted them to hear. "Ah yes, Elliandre…" he said, puffing away on his pipe and with a devilish sparkle in his eye that everyone that knew him knew meant Trouble. "Yes, my beloved lady is quite the enigma."

And with various other dropped 'hints', Aragorn soon had the entire tavern buzzing with the news. And the townsfolk ate it up.

Before long, 'twas on everyone's lips that the Lord Aragorn and the Lady Buffy were betrothed these past few years. And of course, as was the way with gossip, the original whisper tended to mutate when it got to the tenth telling, and by the hundredth telling…. Well, 'twas safe to say that things had been blown entirely out of proportion….

The rumour mill carried it efficiently around the city, with much exaggeration, as the tale grew more and more twisted.

Some said that the Lord and Lady were already married… Others said that they had had a child together…. Others said that the mysterious Lady of the Wood had married them herself… Others said that the Lady Elliandre was related to the Elf that had travelled with them… Others said that she was of the Steward's line of Gondor… Some of the more crazy retellings had more romantic leanings… saying that they had met while running from a dragon or some such monster….

But however twisted they became, they all agreed on the same thing. Lord Aragorn and Lady Buffy were very much in love.

And in another tavern, Legolas and Gimli happened to be confronted on the basis of some of these rumours, leading to much choking on drinks and surprised sputtering.

Curiosity warred with disbelief and a looming sense of dread, they searched high and low for Aragorn, and they found the smug ranger lounging about his quarters.

Legolas just took one look at him and froze, "Aragorn! Tell me you did not!" he hissed, closing the door behind him.

Aragorn just smirked, "I take it you have heard then?" he asked, "Good. Very good indeed."

"She will kill you if you are responsible for this, laddie," the Dwarf warned.

"You shall be lucky if all she does is kill you," Legolas said, "Are you mad?"

"No," Aragorn said, with an all too knowing glint in his eye, "I am playing like Elladan, Elrohir or you for that matter would play it. 'When all else fails, cheat.' Did I not hear you say that one time? Or several?"

Legolas glared at him, "You know very well that was after the twins laid the blame on me for turning Glorfindel's hair purple. I had no part on it. It was only simple revenge."

"I am sure," Aragorn said in a tone that clearly said that he did not believe a word, "But relax; I know what I am doing. And I will deal with the consequences when the time comes."

Sighing, Legolas shook his head, and then broke out in a devious smile, "Well I suppose that I ought to congratulate you. You are finally learning to use that brain of yours."

"Let us just hope that his head will still be attached to his shoulders when Buffy is done with him," Gimli muttered, causing all three to burst into light laughter.

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Buffy tired desperately to argue with Gandalf as he and what was left of the fellowship bringing up the rear. All about them, people were gathering their belongings and readying for the journey but she cared for none of it. "Okay, you just so cannot get up and leave!" Buffy said, tugging on the fast moving wizard's sleeve, "Hello? War coming? Remember? A wizard just might be a little bit of help!"

Gandalf continued to stride determinedly to the stables, "This errand is urgent, Buffy," was his only reply.

"Come on!" Buffy exclaimed in frustration, "You're the only one who can half convince Théoden to do anything without totally annoying him. You must come to Helms Deep!"

Gimli harrumphed behind her, "Helm's Deep! They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight. Who will defend them if not their king?"

Legolas gave him a teasing sidelong glance, "You _live_ in the mountains, Gimli," he pointed out, "Do you not retreat to them when you are threatened?"

Aragorn spoke up before Gimli could do more than glare at the Elf, "He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people. Helm's Deep has saved them in the past." he said as they entered the richly crafted stables. 

Gandalf did not pause, "I know, but there is no way out of that ravine. Théoden is walking into a trap. We all know that. And we all know that he thinks he is leading them to safety. What they will get is a massacre. Théoden has a strong will but I fear for him. I fear for the very survival of Rohan." He silenced Buffy before she opened her mouth to speak and looked intently at Aragorn, "He will need you before the end, Aragorn. The people of Rohan will need you. The defences _have _to hold."

Aragorn nodded solemnly, he knew his duty. "They will hold." he said firmly.

Gandalf let Shadowfax loose from the confines of his stall, stroking the soft silvery coat, and his voice was sardonic as he spoke, "The Grey Pilgrim... That is what they used to call me. Three hundred lives of men I have walked this earth and now I have no time…" he sighed, mounted Shadowfax, and looked at his gathered friends, "Good luck… My search will not be in vain." he said as he urged the Lord of horses forward, "Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day! At dawn, look to the East…!" he said as Aragorn opened the stall gate for him.

"Go." he said softly. Beside him, Buffy held her tongue but sharp eyes met hers, and the wizard touched his ring finger in a silent gesture. She shook her head, and he just looked at her.

'_Use it if you must!_' Gandalf practically shouted in her mind, causing her to wince and then he urged Shadowfax into a canter, causing Legolas to jump back as horse and rider sped out of the stable, and out of Edoras.

Buffy sighed, "Well, let's hope that he hurries back. And I am so not explaining this to Théoden!"

Aragorn placed a hand on her shoulder comfortingly, "He will come back."

Buffy looked at him and then looked in the direction that Gandalf had gone, "But will he be in time?" she asked softly.

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, March 3.

Boromir bowed to the Lord and Lady of the Wood, "I thank you for all the help you have given me, my lady, my lord." he said formally.

Galadriel smiled softly at him, "A hard road lies before you, son of Gondor," she said, "And we have given you what aid we can. Are you ready?"

"I stand ready," Boromir answered, fingering the hilt of his new sword, "As ready as I can be anyway."

"Then depart from this place and may all the blessing of Elves and Men and all the Free Peoples of Middle Earth go with you, Boromir." she said, and Celeborn echoed her sentiments.

"Haldir will lead you to the borders, and show you the easiest route," Celeborn said, "May we meet again in happier times."

"Hopefully we will," Boromir replied, "And maybe we shall meet again at my city and rejoice that the Shadow is gone. Goodbye."

"Namárië," Galadriel called as Haldir led him away, "And may your quest succeed."

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Éowyn lifted the lid on the chest and pulled out the sword she had convinced Éomer to have made for her when she was sixteen. Buffy was to meet her here in just a little while, for a long overdue sparring session and she was looking forward to testing her mettle against her old tutor.

She had persuaded Éomer to help train her after Elliandre… no, Buffy, had left. Her uncle had seemed content to have her learn only the very basics in the area of warfare and she could not abide that. There was something relaxing in moving through the forms with a blade, allowing her to dream that she might one day escape the confines that were slowly killing her.

And now Buffy had come back and with her the hope that her dreams might be realised ere long. Never had Elliandre considered warfare below a woman's notice, never had she been bested by any of the Rohirrim. And she certainly had never called Éowyn's dreams foolish.

She had listened to the older woman's warning the other night, and from knowing her character somewhat, she knew that it not been an attempt by Buffy to put her off, but to allow her to make an informed choice. She cared little for what hardships Buffy had described though. The life of a warrior could not be worse than the life she already led. 'The White Lady of Rohan' was a myth. That woman was just a pretty doll to be put on display and do what she was told. But Éowyn was a Shieldmaiden and she could not tolerate that.

She deserved to be respected, deserved to be allowed to use her skills when she wished. But instead, it had been brave Éomer who had shouldered the burden with Théodred and defended the borders while the king fell into darkness. And she was relegated to nursemaid in a pit of snakes.

Eyes narrowing at the memory of Gríma Wormtongue, and disgusted with herself for having feared him, she unsheathed her sword and began moving through the practice motions.

Spinning around, she was shocked when another blade met her own in a clash of steel. Lord Aragorn stood before her, having blocked her blow with a dagger. What was he doing here? She wondered, the man moved far too quietly to be heard most times and it was a skill she was beginning to regret him having.

"You have some skill with a blade." he said, and coming back to her senses, she swung her sword in a swift movement and knocked his blade aside, gaining the upper hand again.

"I am to spar with Lady Buffy," she replied, keeping her blade pointed at him.

He merely looked at her. And seeing that she was not going to get any good out of him, she stepped back and sheathed her sword, "Women of this country learned long ago that those without swords may still die upon them." she said coldly, though her heart fluttered strangely, "I fear neither death nor pain."

He stepped closer, and his tone was gentle, "What do you fear, my lady?"

She tensed, and then spoke the honest truth, "A cage." she said softly, looking at him, "To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them and all chance of valour has gone beyond recall or desire."

Aragorn looked at her appraisingly, "You are a daughter of kings, a Shieldmaiden of Rohan." he said with some certainty in his tone, sheathing his knife, "I do not think that will be your fate."

He spotted Buffy come in through another door, and saw her stop in surprise at the position he and Éowyn were in. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and her glare fell on him for a moment.

He smiled softly at Éowyn, "It seems that your sparring partner is here now, my lady," he said respectfully, "And so do I take my leave of you." He bowed to her and walked away, and Éowyn could not stop herself from following his path with her eyes. Could he be the one?

Buffy came up to her, and there was a strange light in her hazel eyes as she looked at Éowyn, and her smile was not as warm as it had been previously. She nudged Éowyn out of her daze and looked at her strangely, "Are you ready to begin?"

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Aragorn stopped beside the door when Théoden entered and gestured for him to come forward. His gaze drifted back to where Buffy was approaching Éowyn. But Théoden King was insistent and pulled him aside.

"I hear many troubling things about you, my lord Aragorn," Théoden began without preamble, "The city runs rife with rumours."

Aragorn blinked innocently, "Rumours, my lord?" he asked, "I have not heard any."

Théoden gave him a disbelieving look, "But I would wager that you would know enough to tell me if they are the truth or not?"

"'Twould depend on the nature and substance of the rumours, my lord," Aragorn replied easily. "How can I answer what I do not know?"

"It seems that you and that warg of a woman are behaving most improperly." Théoden said sternly, "I will not tolerate it under my roof. Not her."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed, "You know not of what you speak," he said sharply, grey eyes boring into Théoden's menacingly, "Buffy is an honourable woman and does not deserve to be slandered by you." Anger at the implication made it difficult to control his temper, "Do not say such things again Théoden King or I will not be responsible for what happens to you. Especially if she should hear it."

Théoden looked at the seething ranger in surprise. And wondered if he had been wrong after all. When Háma had told him that Aragorn, whom Éowyn had designs on seemingly, was flaunting his casual lover, he had intended to put a stop to it. But Aragorn's defence of Buffy was stronger than a mere mistress would warrant. Could the rumours of their betrothal be true? A would be king betrothed to that menace? If he ever gained a throne, her antics would lead to a rebellion within a month!

But Aragorn seemed to care for her and that would not do. Théoden could not say that he was in any way fond of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, and he supposed that Aragorn could not be much worse. But if Buffy was to be his queen! Well, that changed everything.

If Buffy was ever placed on a throne, then relations between Gondor and Rohan would be strained at best, murderous at worst. No, Éowyn would make him a much better wife and be a better queen and if he saw things right, if Aragorn ever gained the kingship then his advisors would soon make him see the sense of things. If Éowyn wanted Aragorn for her own, then he would help her in all endeavours.

Buffy was simply too volatile, too untrustworthy. He only wondered how long it would take for Aragorn to see it like that too.

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She nudged Éowyn out of her daze and looked at her strangely, "Are you ready to begin?"

Éowyn jerked out of her reverie and looked at Buffy who was eyeing her peculiarly. "Ah, yes," she said, fumbling to appear collected, "Of course, Buffy."

Shrewd hazel eyes looked at her knowingly, "Man troubles?" Buffy asked, careful to keep her voice without infliction.

Éowyn's eyes widened and a faint flush came into her cheeks, "Nay, it is not so," she denied, and sought to distract the other woman from the embarrassing topic, "And yours? How do you fare in the game of love?"

Buffy looked at her for a moment, and then said, "If you're looking for hints on how to court, I would pick a better love life if I was you. Lately, mine's been rated PG for pretty grim."

Éowyn looked at her in puzzlement and Buffy just nudged her and said, "Come on. Time's wasting and we have some work to do."

Éowyn grinned, as eager as she always was, "Then teach me some more," she said gaily, slipping into the proper stance.

Across the room, Aragorn watched mesmerised. There was no doubt that Éowyn was highly skilled with the blade, but he knew that Buffy was holding back. She nearly always did when sparring with another. Well, unless it was Glorfindel anyway. But the Lord of the Golden Flower could handle himself.

They dodged nimbly and thrust and parried, dancing around in a graceful ring as Buffy put Éowyn through her paces. They seemed to him to be two golden lionesses, those graceful predators that stalked the plains and savannahs of Harad.

Tutor and student, both were magnificent. And 'twas only reluctantly that he could tear himself away. But he did not want to be any distraction. He feared that Éowyn's wish of fighting would come true the hard way and he would not get in the way of the learning of any new skill Buffy could impart to her.

And so with one last backwards glance, he left.

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Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 4.

Fearful and nervous, at the crack of dawn the emptying of Edoras had been done and they were on the road.

Théoden King headed the party, riding with his guards at the forefront but to Buffy, Éowyn seemed to be more aware of the people's unrest and gathering fear. And with great aplomb, she managed to diffuse the situation and ease their minds. Whether she realised it or not, the people trusted her to lead them. Whereas Théoden had been in growing shadow for many years, and 'twas disconcerting to see him so hale and fit suddenly.

But now they went to Helms Deep. And who knew what the outcome would be from this course of action?

Buffy could only hope that things would work out okay and she deliberately ignored the cold, uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

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"Friends may come and go, but enemies accumulate."

Unknown

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Orthanc, Isengard, 3019 TA, March 4.

In his tower at Isengard, Saruman pondered on the latest happenings.

His Lord had sent him a boon; it seemed that he had not heard of his failure with the Periannath, but the gift that he had sent would ensure Helms Deep fell to him. He had his own surprises of course, and the exploding powder that he had fashioned would destroy the Deeping Wall with ease. But he was not above having even more strength at his disposal.

And after one encounter with Sauron's boon to him, he knew that it had strength indeed. His lord has given it a set of orders that he could not countermand but he cared little. It would enough damage as it was to please him. And the thought of the foolish Rohirrim brats retreating in fear pleased him greatly.

Calling Gríma to him, he listened again to Théoden's most likely plans, and his little worm repeated them faithfully, "Théoden will not stay at Edoras. It is vulnerable, he knows this… He will expect an attack on the city. They will flee to Helm's Deep, the great fortress of Rohan. It is a dangerous road to take through the mountains. They will be slow... They will have women, the elderly and children with them. They cannot move fast…"

"And his Riders are scarce you say?" Saruman said thoughtfully.

"Yes, Éomer took many with him when he left." Gríma replied, "And many more left to join Elfhelm and Erkenbrand. He cannot have more than five hundred warriors with him at the most."

The wizard chuckled coldly, "Five hundred?" he repeated scornfully, "They shall be massacred. Not that I am opposed to that outcome…."

He looked at Gríma and then stood and a fell and cunning light was in his eyes. Deep into the works of Isengard he walked, until he found the orc he wanted. "Théoden is vulnerable to attack… Send out your warg riders. Kill as many as you can…."

Behind him, Gríma shuddered and cowered at the orc's malicious laughter…

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A/N: So? What do you think? Feedback wanted! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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Next chapter: Troubles on the road to Helms Deep…. Legolas gets a surprise… news come to the Hidden Valley…. And Buffy gets some devastating news….

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Elvish:

Dagnir - Slayer

Meldiren - my friend

Mellon - friend

Namárië - farewell

Periannath - hobbits

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Éoherë - term used by the Rohirrim for the full muster of their cavalry.

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Éomer - son of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2991. Has lived with Théoden King since his parents death 3002.

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Éowyn - daughter of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2995. Has lived with Théoden King since her parents death 3002.

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Gríma Wormtongue - Counsellor of King Théoden and agent of Saruman.

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Háma - Captain of the household of King Théoden.

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Hornburg - fortress in Rohan at the entrance to Helm's Deep

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age. Now, bound to Buffy.

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Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

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Orthanc - the great Númenórean tower in the Circle of Isengard. Home of Saruman.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

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«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	43. The Great Escape

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Aragorn and Buffy's strained relationship ever be resolved? What will Aragorn do with the information, the secret, which he now knows? What has Arwen planned? In addition, what will happen when the Three rise up in fury? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty when she's now the hunted? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? Moreover, what path does Boromir now follow?

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Author's notes: Sorry about the formatting of the last chapter before I reposted it. It seems ff dot net struck again… sighs…

In addition, I am very sorry for the delay on this chapter but I was in hospital. So no access to a computer to even write the chapter, let alone post it! And I am _still_ sick!

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PS. - Any other ff dot net authors out there experiencing troubles with their author alerts? Or reviews not appearing on the page or in your e-mail box? 'Cos ff . Net seems to be eating mine.

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Review responses:

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Allen Pitt - Sorry, no crossover people until sequel. And yes, ubervamp is a no. However, I think that I have something better…

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Ally - Sorry, I've been sick. But yes, school has been a factor.

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Amanda aka hungry piranha - It is an interesting idea and thanks for your comments, but I don't think I can use it. I already have my plans for that sequence.

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Anna - hi! And you have my personal sympathy. I hate it when the hard drive mucks things up! And as for Buffy burning somebody… well, I really cannot say but read the Helms Deep sequence closely… and I am following a combination of book, movie and Asha-verse. How's school? One word: - BRUTAL!

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Anna Rossini - thanks! And you are right, but not until the sequel! Shh!

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Anyanka of the Ocean - thanks! And it has only been a chapter or two for poor Boromir! And don't be so sure about Éowyn, remember how she doesn't like following Théoden's orders?

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Anya Observian - thanks! And yes, Buffy will find out the whole mess in time. And what exactly is the cheese army?

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Belligerent-road-pylon - you would be surprised… get used to conniving Aragorn though. I quite like him. So I think I will keep him. And yes, I will be bringing in the whole Éowyn/Faramir thing. I like that part. And you are shaking your _fish_?

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Boo - and the fact that she has no idea what she has just landed herself in…

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BuffyandDracoLover - depends on when she finds out…

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Cornish rex - thanks!

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Dreamer Child - welcome back! I'm sorry that you are ill. From experience, I know it sucks. And as to your idea, maybe…

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FallenStar2 - hi! Thanks! Glad to see that you get the Théoden/Buffy friction. But I think he will get a wake up call. And yes, I love Aragorn's plot. So devious, so underhanded, so great! You have it dead on when you say that he has got what he wants now. Until Buffy finds out anyway. And by that time, it should be interesting to see how even more outlandish the rumours have gotten. And I also agree with you on Éowyn. She does not know Aragorn, she can't love him. But she does want what she thinks he represents. I am saving love for another guy! And Buffy aboutto be placed in a touchy situation? Yeah, that comes to a head next chapter… and a clear head probably will not be possible! Okay, there is no way that Boromir's part of the story is over yet. He is going to drift into the background for a bit while I put my Grand Plot in action. But then he is going to re-enter with a bang! After all, I can't let you guys know what is going to happen, now can I? And Gandalf the Grey has become the White. After that transformation, in my opinion, he did become more of a hardass. After all, he has a job to do and very little time to do it. And you had to ask that question didn't you? You have jinxed her now, you know. What could Sauron possibly have that could overtake a slayer? It should be interesting to find out. But one warning, it's nasty! I also thought the book glossed over some parts too. A little more interaction would have been nice! And I like novel length reviews!

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GoldenRat - (grins) the hard way…

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goldenshadows - if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise now, would it?

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Haley - (smiles mysteriously) What about Narya?

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Kit-Kat - thanks! And yes, all is fair in love and war. And reinforcements are coming. Let Buffy beware!

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Light Spinner - Told ya:) And of course, he will have a problem if Buffy hears the rumours first but hey, he's not going to be there! And trust me; if Buffy uses Narya, it is not going to be intentionally. Since she has no idea what she is doing.

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Lindiel Eryn - I think they have enough wedges. If I have to add some new ones, I really better get started at destroying some of the old ones… and I see no reason why Erkenbrand could not come into this story so I did it.

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Lunawolf - ah, 'tis good to be prepared. And I am swinging into gear for some EVIL twists!

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Mari - Théoden… that would be love for Éowyn, anger, pride and a dislike for other people issuing him orders at work there. And yes, Buffy may be underestimating her worth but then again she is not exactly delirious with happiness at the moment. NO DAWN! I hate Dawn. The only Dawn in this story is the one where the sun rises every morning! And the monster sent to Saruman should make for oodles of fun! (Cackles)

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Miss Ai - I suppose he is. But then again he did have his mind hijacked by Saruman for a while there.

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Onlimain - hi! And you are not the only one to underestimate Aragorn! Or me. But thank you! And you should know that I do twist things about and if I let people off easy on one thing, I usually pay it back threefold later.

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PrecariousPersonata - thanks! Okay, Buffy does not want the responsibility of Narya 'cos it's like a big bull's-eye target drawn on her back. She does not know how to work it, she's not immortal and she always wanted to be normal anyway. Also, she feels like she had enough trouble with the slayer thing anyway. And no, I have never read Catcher in the Rye. And in my opinion, I think Éowyn wanted the glory and the freedom of a warrior but never really considered that there were other consequences than death.

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Procrastinating - what can I say? I usually update quickly. And that ledge was long. Very long. And they fell off different sides. Also, Buffy wasn't trying to ride a Balrog. And in reference to chapter 34, Buffy never gave him the chance. She panicked. And I had to sow the seeds for the rest of the story…

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Rosie - thanks! Glad you like my devious little Aragorn! For one thing, the monster Sauron sent is new. It's _very_ evil. And Sauron has decided to show his devious side… and sadly, my mock finals were only over Wednesday 2nd March! Ahhh!

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ShawThang - thanks! And yes, the two women's friendship will definitely be sorely tested! Thanks for all your comments! They were great! And the whole grouching Buffy's bedroom scene kinda came from nowhere. (Shrugs) It happens. And eight lines on Boromir were better than no lines on Boromir! He is on a top secret classified mission. I cannot give anything away. No matter how much I would like to!

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Siren's Call - thanks! And do I think Éowyn would have a chance? I think if she didn't have Buffy as competition, she just might. But I have always been partial to the idea of her and Faramir….

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Star - a lot of people seem to love sneaky Aragorn! And nearly everything he does leads to trouble for someone. But this time he has a 'get out of jail free' card….

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Talina - thanks! You have a good deductive brain, you know that? And Dawn is definitely not coming into this arc of stories. Ever. You have some very good thoughts. What a pity I can't confirm them…

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Tenshikoneko03 - she will… and to put it mildly Buffy is going to be very busy at Helms Deep! And yes, all hell is going to break loose anyway…

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Wild320 - thanks!

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And major thanks to:

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Emerald sorceress, General Mac, jumping-jo, Night-Owl123, Sukera, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Tommy14, XinnLajgin, yummy,

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CHAPTER FORTY-THREE: THE GREAT ESCAPE

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Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 4.

Seated upon her mount, moving at a frustrating pace over the lush grassland of Rohan, Buffy looked at the man who rode beside her, foregoing a place by Théoden's side, "What chances do you think we really have?" she asked quietly.

His ears, sharper than most Men's, caught her words easily, and grey eyes looked at her intensely, "It all depends on whether Erkenbrand's warriors await us," he said, "And if the people of the Westfold have managed to survive the assault on their lands."

"We travel with so few," Buffy murmured, careful not to let Éowyn, who walked beside the mounted Gimli up ahead, overhear her words, "Even if everything we hope for comes to pass, who knows what Saruman will throw at us? I have never been to Helms Deep. I do not know its defences but I'm afraid that they're not going to be enough."

"Perhaps not," Aragorn agreed, "But that is the risk we take every time we go into battle. The stakes are simply bigger this time."

Buffy, with narrowed eyes, noticed the frequent glances Éowyn cast at Aragorn, in spite of Gimli's attempts to distract her, "It seems that your grand plan failed," Buffy said dryly, "Éowyn still looks at you."

Aragorn looked at the young Shieldmaiden at her words, "She is young," he said, "She does not care for me. She cares only for what she thinks I am."

"Well, the whole 'womenfolk need protecting' thingy tends to be kinda annoying," Buffy drawled, "Especially when you want to fight."

"'Twould seem that Gimli is enjoying himself," Aragorn said, "'Tis a pity that Legolas scouts ahead. I daresay that he would have had a few comments of his own on their choice of conversation."

Buffy's lips twitched and then curled upwards in a small smile, "Yes, I definitely think he would have," she said, even as Gimli continued rambling on about the many myths surrounding the Dwarves.

"It is true you don't see many Dwarf women. And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, that they are often mistaken for Dwarf men." Gimli announced, his voice easily reaching the ranger and slayer's ears, his tone plainly stating that he thought the notion absurd. Buffy had to smother a laugh but her mirth faded as she caught Éowyn's gaze lingering on Aragorn yet again.

And hazel eyes hardened into icy chips as Aragorn, plainly amused, made a gesture to the smiling Shieldmaiden and murmured for her ears only, "'Tis the beards.…"

A faint hint of red coloured Éowyn's cheeks but she held the ranger's gaze before Gimli's words drew her attention away again. Buffy watched the scene play out in annoyance. Pretending to be betrothed? She thought somewhat snarkily, yeah right. Her mood soured and even Gimli's observations on the Dwarven race could not cheer her.

"And this, in turn, has given rise to the belief that there are no Dwarf women. And that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!" At his words, Éowyn laughed brightly and Buffy watched Aragorn's eyes linger on her longer than she thought proper. Typical men, she complained, never happy unless they had eye candy.

The Dwarf was laughing himself, "Which is of course ridiculous…" And with some alarm, Buffy watched him slip in his seat but ere she could warn him, the horse lurched under him, "Whoa!" Gimli cried in alarm, as the reins were ripped from Éowyn's loose grip and the horse galloped away, throwing Gimli off after a short distance until he landed on his rump in a clang of armour and a loud thump.

Legolas, newly returned from his scout, arrived just in time to witness the unfortunate event and he went to his friend even as Éowyn rushed forward to aid the Dwarf. Gimli's eyes widened as he saw his Elven friend approach, valiantly trying to keep from laughing and he struggled to get up, brushing off Éowyn's hold and desperately trying to regain his dignity, "It is alright, it is alright. Nobody panic. That was deliberate. It was deliberate." Legolas decided to just nod and smirk and save his teasing for a more opportune time, even as Théoden drew rein near Buffy and Aragorn and ignoring the slayer, leaned in to talk to the ranger.

"I have not seen my niece smile for a long time." Théoden said, giving Aragorn a look Buffy was not sure she wanted to read into. "She was but a girl when they brought her father back dead having been cut down by orcs. After that, she watched her mother succumb to grief. Then she was left alone, to tend her king growing fear. Doomed to wait upon an old man, who should have loved her as a father… You are good for her."

Beside and slightly behind Aragorn now, Buffy's eyes widened at Théoden's blatant implication, her head snapped around to look at the ranger, who looked pensive, and was staring at Éowyn as the King smiled at his preoccupation and drifted away. He just could not be serious, could he? Buffy thought as Théoden, with a self-satisfied smile, rejoined his escort.

But then she looked between Éowyn and Aragorn and she felt her heart ache at the sight.

Éowyn was laughing as she brushed a thoroughly embarrassed Dwarf off and by her side; Legolas was poking fun at his friend's misfortune and poor horsemanship. With the sun shining down on her, glinting off her golden mane and the wind playing with the long tresses, Aragorn seemed enchanted for a moment. She was painfully reminded of Legolas's remarks to her. And she thought again at her response.

Distracted by the feel of Aragorn's stare on the Lady of Rohan, she kept her voice cool as she spoke, "Do I have to remind you that you are 'betrothed'?" she said with a surprising amount of dispassion, "If you want this thing to work, stop gawking unless you want a dagger in your gut and a message winging its way to the twins about a certain incident which led to them having green skin, you'd better remember it. Got it?"

Aragorn looked at her in surprise and felt the last vestiges of foresight slip away as his gaze drifted from Éowyn. He must have been caught up in it. Buffy looked annoyed with him and her threat was not an idle one. But he had to hide his smirk at her chilly demeanour and the stroke of luck that had led to this confirmation of his hopes.

It seemed that even fate was willing to intervene on his behalf in this chase…

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Camp, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 4. Night.

Legs and horses weary, Théoden ordered a halt when dusk fell and the few soldiers he had with him ringed the camp area, most asleep on the outskirts but with shifts for the needed sentries. As had Éowyn led Buffy to sleep beside her, and Legolas was stalking Gimli who was trying to avoid a rehashing of his earlier encounter with his mount, Aragorn was left alone.

Conscious of the undoubtedly exhausting battle they would have ahead of them, he decided to forego the pleasure of a smoke, and he drifted into the land of dreams with ease as soon as his head was pillowed on his bedroll.

But he was blissfully unaware of the thin tendrils of… something that seemed to soothe him to sleep.

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ooooooooo

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A gentle arm shook him, disturbing him from his slumber and irritated, he cracked open one eyelid.

A smiling face greeted him, "Hello sleepyhead," his wife said teasingly, "Have you forgotten that you are hosting a ball tonight? And that the King can't go missing when he's the host?"

"Buffy?" he said groggily, blinking in surprise. Something niggled him at the back of his mind, that something was not right about this scene. But almost as soon as he thought of it, it slipped away from his grasp, into the fog that seemed to eclipse his mind. And unconcerned, he did not fight it.

Instead, as other memories rose to the surface, familiar and yet strange at the same time, he let himself go with the moment.

Grabbing the silk-covered arm, he tugged her down onto the bed and rolled them over so that he had the advantage. "And if I am the king," he said playfully, as she smiled up at him, giggling softly at his sleep tousled state, "Then the ball cannot start until I arrive."

Buffy swatted his shoulder, "And you shall leave me to listen to your steward and counsellors harp on about how disrespectful of protocol you are and how I am supposed to keep you in line? Don't you think that I get enough of that already?"

Aragorn simply grinned, "Because we all know how much you fear my advisors…" he said sarcastically, "After all, 'tis not like they visibly flinch when you lecture them, is it meleth?"

Buffy mock-glared at him, "You are in some form today, mister," she replied, "And you're wrinkling my dress. I'm going to get lectured on that too."

"As if you care," Aragorn said, "In fact, I think it makes you look quite deliciously rumpled."

"There's no need to remind me that I married a lecher," she said jokingly, "But seriously we have to get a move on. We're late."

He idly played with a lock of long golden hair, only mildly interested in her words. "As I said, they can wait." he said, leaning in for a long, slow kiss.

Buffy blinked when he pulled back, "That is so not getting you off the hook mister," she said warningly, and her eyes widened when she understood his intentions. "Aragorn, we can't! We will be late. People will talk!"

"Let them talk," Aragorn answered with a wolfish grin, his eyes devouring his wife's fair form, and then whatever reply she might have made was lost as he kissed her…

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ooooooooo

Contentedly asleep, he dreamt, unaware of any interference.

From his mind, the tendrils withdrew. His own foresight could furnish the rest, they knew. They had done their part.

'Twas time to leave him to his own devices now.

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Rohan, 3019 TA, March 5.

Aragorn truly did not know what to make of his dreams.

While he had dreamt of such bliss before, he had never done so with such clarity, and he could not hep but feel that this one was somehow important.

He had never had a dream that felt so real. And as he tried to work though the meaning, he was grateful that Buffy was away with Legolas, scouting out the plains. It gave him some space to think.

And so, as he pondered the possibilities, he was unaware that to others he appeared pensive and withdrawn. Nor was he aware of Éowyn walking alongside him until she spoke.

"Where is she? The woman who gave you that jewel?"

Éowyn had been staring at the glittering gemstone necklace for longer than she would ever admit to. Her mind had conjured up all sorts of possibilities for the ranger to wear such a thing. But the obviously feminine design and the open way he wore it suggested to her that it had been the gift of a lover. Or perhaps something more. And at last, she could take the agony of imagining him with another no longer and she forced herself to ask the burning question.

Aragorn looked at her, blinking owlishly in surprise at being addressed. Then he glanced at her and his hand involuntarily went up to touch the magnificent jewel. He said nothing for a long while and so Éowyn felt she had to prod him again. She could not depart without an answer now.

"My lord?" she asked gently, looking at him intently.

Aragorn's face saddened as he thought on his foster sister, and once betrothed, and the fact that Elrond would give her little choice in her path West now that she had made her choice to cleave to Elvenkind, "She is sailing to the Undying Lands, with all that is left of her kin."

Surprised at his melancholy tone, she forced herself to ask, "What was her name, this lady of yours?"

He looked at her strangely, but answered, "Lady Arwen Undómiel," he replied, "And she is not my lady."

Éowyn felt her hopes rise at that statement. If the lady had left for the Undying Lands, then she must be of the Elven-kindred. And that meant that a match between her and Lord Aragorn was impossible. It seemed that things had worked out better than she had hoped. Instead of facing competition from a lady that awaited him somewhere in the north, all she had to compete with was the ghost of his memories of her. And that, she felt, she could overcome.

And at least she knew the name of her invisible rival now.

Arwen.

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But unbeknownst to Éowyn, 'twas not Aragorn that pined over the loss of the fair Undómiel, but Legolas Greenleaf…

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Rohan, 3019 TA, March 4. night.

As he passed his days watching the merry jig that Aragorn and Buffy were leading, he found himself missing his own lady. One whom he had yet to spend any time together as lovers and not just friends. 'Twas why his friend's courtship dance both amused and saddened him. He, who had never been anything other than independent, found himself missing her. And his father. But there was another story he did not want to think about until the war for Middle Earth was over. He suffered no delusions that even if he came home victorious that he would be spared his father's not inconsiderable wrath.

Pushing the thoughts of their last meeting out of his head, he tried to relax and drift into Elven reverie but found himself oddly troubled. Still, persevering, he finally found himself stepping half out of the waking world and into the Elven dreamscape.

As he slipped deeper under, a voice came to his ears, soft and sweet, "The light of the Evenstar does not wax and wane…. It is mine to give to whom I will… Like my heart, Greenleaf…. Go to sleep…"

Blinking in surprise, he looked up to see the familiar face of Arwen bent over him. Looking around him, he saw that he was reclining on a sofa and that Arwen was sitting alongside him, watching him patiently.

Recognising the lush grounds and views of Rivendell, he returned his gaze to knowing grey eyes, "Arwen?" he asked, "No. I am asleep. This is a dream."

Arwen laughed and her hand slid up to rest on his chest, "Then it is a good dream." she said soothingly, "I could not resist, meleth. I felt your distress."

"Arwen? How?" he asked, a hand reaching up to cup her face.

"My daernaneth taught me many things," she replied softly, "You should know how gifted she is."

"I had not realised that it had passed to you." Legolas answered, "Why Arwen?"

"As I said, I could feel your distress," the Evenstar said, standing up and crossing to the balcony. "I know not how. But it came to me and I could not allow you to continue on without solace."

At her words, he dragged himself into a seating position, "Then I am truly grateful," he said, his words tinged with the happiness he felt, "But are you sure your adar will not be appearing shortly, to come after my head?"

She returned to his side, a soft smile curling her lips, "I assure you, he will not, meleth." she said, "Adar will not disturb us this night."

Though he longed to ask her more, to talk with her. Oh, he had so many things to tell her! She leant down and kissed him sweetly and then she whispered, "Sleep…" she murmured, "I will guard your dreams this night…" and he felt himself slipping back into the soothing calm of his dreams.

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The Last Homely House, Imladris. 3019 TA, February 14. (Flashback)

Not unexpectedly, Glorfindel found them with their sister, on the terrace overlooking the Bruinen.

"Gwenyn," he said, entering the room, "Your adar wishes to see you in his study immediately."

As one, the trio looked at each other. Arwen smirked slightly at them, "What have you done this time, you terrors? You have not been as foolish as to torment Erestor again, have you?"

Elladan shook his head in perplexity, "Nothing that I know of. And we would not go near to Erestor. He has taken to carrying knives since before the Fellowship left." And Elrohir echoed his denial, though clearly, Arwen did not believe them.

Glorfindel just looked at them sternly, golden hair flashing in the sunlight, "Now, gwenyn." he said shortly.

Slightly worried now, they made haste to where their adar awaited them. As they entered, they saw Elrond holding a sheet of parchment. Grey eyes were worried as he looked on his twin sons, but he did what he knew needed to be done. "A message has come from the Golden Wood," he said, handing the parchment to Elrohir, "From your daernaneth."

The twins leaned over the parchment as Glorfindel closed the door behind him, leaving to oversee the border patrol and giving the family some privacy.

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Elrond,

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The Fellowship has passed through the Golden Wood. I regret to tell you of the loss of Gandalf during their passage of the Mines of Moria. But I do not think all is lost. However, I send you this message to bid you aid your foster son.

The time is near. He shall reclaim the kingship or die trying. Bring to him the tools of the king. Bring him the sceptre and the banner. Bring him the aid he needs.

To the sons of my daughter, hear this: - Aragorn has need of his kindred. Let the Dúnedain ride to him in Rohan!

There was no signature but it needed none. They knew whom it was from.

"We will ride immediately in search of Halbarad," Elladan said as soon as they had finished reading the letter.

Elrond closed his eyes in anguish. He had feared this. But he knew that they could not be stopped. "Please, be careful." he pleaded.

Elrohir placed a hand on his sire's, "It will be alright, ada," he said soothingly, "Aragorn will triumph. And so will we."

But as Elrond felt fear well up within him, he saw Vilya glow and before he could register what was happening, both Elladan and Elrohir had jumped back from him with a surprised cry.

"What was that?" Elrohir demanded, feeling the shiver run down his spine. It was almost as if something had seeped into him. But that could not be possible. Could it?

Elrond looked at the ring of power he bore upon his finger, cloaked to all those who were not ringbearers themselves. But somehow, he was not worried. 'Twas if Vilya had been trying to ease his fears.

"I know not," he answered, "But do not be troubled. You know where to find the sceptre and Arwen has the banner. But please, come back to me. I could not bear another loss." he said softly, remembering the fate that had befallen his beautiful, brilliant Celebrían.

Elladan nodded tightly, remembering his mother too, looking at his father curiously, but time was against them and they had to ride immediately. Rohan was no short distance away. "Namárië adar," they said and then they departed to round up the Dúnedain and hopefully reach their little brother ere it was too late.

And upon Elrond's finger, Vilya slept, the weaving of protection settling about the two young Elves unbeknownst to anyone.

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While Éowyn was trying to wrangle information out of a reluctant Aragorn, Buffy and Legolas were scouting with Gamling and Háma, who Théoden had insisted on sending, despite their assurances that they did not need watchdogs.

"Something feels wrong," Buffy said, a shiver going down her spine as she snapped into ultra-aware mode.

"I agree," Legolas said grimly, "Something is not right. Let us go to the top of the hill, we must see the plains. They cannot approach unawares from there."

"But they can do it quietly," Buffy muttered, following Legolas.

Gamling just looked at them askance, "What is it?" he demanded and then turned to his friend, "Háma? Do you notice anything?"

Háma looked worried as the horses danced restlessly under them, "I am not sure." he admitted, looking around for any sign of danger.

But the closer they got to the top of the hill, the more creeped out Buffy felt. "Legolas?" she hissed softly, catching his attention, "I think whatever bad is out there, it's kinda waiting for us to go look. How about we don't?"

"I think you may be right," Legolas said, and turned to warn the others but it was too late. A warg scout appeared on the slope, bearing down on them and before they could react, it had launched itself at Háma, killing him.

As it turned its attention on Gamling, Legolas whipped his bow out to kill it, even as Buffy raced back to warn the others, "Aragorn!" she called, "There's a scout! Wargs are coming! Wargs!" she shouted, driving the ranger into action.

Théoden looked up in alarm at her shout, and the sight of Aragorn running towards him, "What is it? What do you see?"

"Wargs!" Aragorn roared, "We are under attack!" And then he was running to help the others.

And for the first time since he had led his people out of Edoras, Théoden King felt like he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

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As Aragorn shouted out the warning to the king, the villagers and townsfolk began to cry out in panic, hysteria taking hold of them as the king tried to organise the warriors he had, desperately hoping that it would be enough.

"All riders to the head of the column!" he shouted, seeing even Gimli scrabbling to get up on the Elf's horse.

"Come on, get me up here, I'm a rider! Argh! I am not letting that pointy eared tree squirrel have all the fun!" he shouted as a nearby soldier pushed him up onto the horse.

From the head of the group came the warnings from the Elf and Buffy, warning them that only so much time could be bought and making his way through the crowd to his niece, he grabbed Éowyn's hand to stop her in her tracks, seeing the knife she held.

"Éowyn!" he said as he reached her, "You must lead the people to Helm's Deep. And make haste!"

As he knew she would, she argued fiercely, "I can fight! Do not send me away like this!"

Théoden shook his head, "No! You must do this... for me. The people will follow you. They look up to you. Someone has to lead them out ere they die at the hands of the wargs. You must do this. 'Tis no shame to ensure the safety of your people, Éowyn."

At his pleading entreaty, she gave in, unable to risk her people's lives for her own desire and nodded shortly, "I will do it." she said, "I will see them safe."

"That is all I ask," he said in relief, and watched for a moment as she turned to attend to the villagers before he called to his men.

"Follow me!" he bellowed, leading the Rohirrim to take on the wargs and buy Éowyn the time she needed to get their people away.

Conscious of the responsibility she now held, Éowyn did her duty and led the townsfolk towards safer ground, "Make for the lower ground! Stick together!" she ordered.

But even as she led the panicking crowd away, she turned around to see Aragorn wheeling around on Hasufel, and their eyes met for a moment ere he pitched into the fight. Even at this distance, she could hear the roars of the wargs and their orc riders.

And selfish though it was, she found herself wishing that he, above all, would be alright.

And that he would come back to her.

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Even as Théoden led his riders in a charge, Legolas was already felling their enemies with his bow and so was Buffy. But all too soon, the wargs closed in, which meant sword work was needed now.

Even as she whirled and ducked and dodged, the cold steel of her blade cutting deep into orc and warg flesh, she could hear the now familiar banter between Elf and Dwarf, over their respective kill counts. "Argh! That one counts as mine!" she could hear Gimli bellow and could only imagine Legolas's returned smirk. It gave her some comfort as the fighting turned increasingly into close quarters as Théoden's warriors met the wargs.

She grunted as a warg tried to jump onto her and spotting the crossbow its rider carried, she snatched a fallen one off the ground, and took aim, "Now this is an interesting test of your reflexes; can you turn and fire that thing before I skewer you?"

She fired and the orc fell, "Oops. Guess not." she said and then turned to her next victim, unaware of Théoden's considering eyes upon her.

Unfortunately, she was also unaware of the danger facing Aragorn as she hacked and slashed her way towards Gimli and Legolas.

She did not realise that word of the Heir of Isildur's re-emergence had spread to the canny wizard.

And she had not realised that he would eliminate the risk he saw in him…

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Aragorn grunted in pain as a warg slammed into him and he was knocked off his mount. Scrambling for his sword, he tried to stab the orc but the scimitar it carried blocked him and cruel fingers grabbed him by the back of his neck, dragging him along with the warg and its rider. The cruel slice of a blade bit into his shoulder but his straits were too desperate for him to give the strangely burning pain more than passing notice.

Feeling the fingers trying to choke him, Aragorn struggled desperately and after several fruitless blows managed to land a strike in the orcs torso, but as the orc bellowed in pain, Aragorn was unaware of the snapping of the chain around his neck as the orc fell off the warg, rolling along the ground. But he did not know that it had already accomplished its duty. And its sole purpose in being sent.

Free from the choking grip, Aragorn tried to separate himself from the warg but somehow he was stuck and he could not see what was holding him to the beast. At least, until he realised that his wrist was tangled in the saddle straps.

Unsuccessfully, he desperately tried to detangle himself but it was to no avail. Looking up, he saw the edge of a cliff looming dangerously near and he renewed his struggles but again, it was no use.

The warg was going too fast and could not stop. And even as he tried to cut the leather straps holding him, the warg reached the edge and pitched them both over the cliff. Plummeting to their untimely ends.

His last thought was an apology to all he had failed before his body met the shock of icy water and cold stone and darkness overtook him.

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Rohan, 3019 TA, March 4.

Shadowfax lived up to his reputation, swiftly covering the ground over Rohan and bearing him to his destination. To find one Éomer, son of Éomund, and his éored.

He had found them quicker than even he had hoped. Apparently, the young lord's temper was quick when it came to destroying any orcs that roamed the plains of the Riddermark.

Surrounded at spear-point, he had calmly requested to speak to Lord Éomer, and recognising him from his increasingly infrequent visits to the Mark, Éomer had ordered his men to let him pass. And upon his request for privacy, he had drawn the wizard away to place out of earshot of the men that rode with him.

"You come on some errand, you say," Éomer said, "What is it? And why do you seek me out?"

"I come on behalf of your uncle, the king," Gandalf said urgently, "Saruman's malice has been stripped from him and Gríma Wormtongue cast out of the lands of Rohan."

Éomer looked at him wonder, "Then you have accomplished more than I," he said, "And I do remember your counsel from other years and no spy of Saruman do you seem. But tell me, why should I trust you?"

"You met some friends of mine some days passed," the wizard replied, "A man by the name of Aragorn, a woman, an Elf and a Dwarf."

The young Horse-lord looked at him, "Aye, I met them. And their claims."

"I journeyed with them to Edoras, where we raised the alarm. Saruman brings war to these lands."

"This I know, and long have I tried to warn the king. He would not listen. What has changed now?"

"Théoden King is himself again. Not the dotard you left in the Golden Hall. But renewed in the absence of Saruman's tainted magic. And he has gathered his people and is leading them to Helms Deep as we speak."

"Helms Deep?" Éomer repeated in worry, "But he shall be cornered. Has he not called in the éoreds to defend Rohan?"

"There is no time," Gandalf said, watching Éomer digest the news, "He walks into a trap. He will be caged in the fortress and he has not the men to defend it. I know not what Saruman might throw at him but I know that he would not act unless he was confident that he could overrun you with ease. Saruman's army is moving."

Éomer was silent and Gandalf pressed on, "He needs you and your men, Éomer," he said urgently, "If he does not receive aid, Rohan will fall. You are needed. Desperately."

"Has he not sent the women and children to Dunharrow?" Éomer asked.

"Some may have fled there when the Westfold was burned, but those of Edoras travel to Helms Deep with the King."

"Éowyn? Does she go with them?" he asked tightly.

"Yes, she travels with the king." he answered.

Éomer closed his eyes in defeat, "Then all is lost. We cannot make it to Helms Deep in time. You say that Saruman's forces are already moving. I cannot reach Helms Deep in so little time."

Gandalf just gave him a small smile, "That is where the help of a wizard comes in." he said, "I can get you to Helms Deep in time, son of Éomund, will you come? Will you answer your uncle's call?"

Éomer looked at him, "If you can get us there, wizard, then we will come." he answered and left the wizard to make ready for the journey they would now undertake.

And so it was that Éomer and the thousands strong éored were turned around and began the race to Helms Deep before it was too late.

Before Rohan fell.

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Winded, Buffy surveyed the plains tiredly, strewn as they were with bodies and too many of them belonging to men.

Crossing to Legolas when she heard him call for Aragon, she looked at him in alarm, "Have you not seen Aragorn?" she asked tremulously.

Gimli shook his head, "Nay, lass," he answered and then added his voice to the call, "Aragorn!"

Alarmed beyond measure, she tried to reach out with her senses for him, but all she felt was a taint of some sort and blackness. There was nothing. She could not sense him.

Only the stench of poison.

Heart clenching in fear, she staggered slightly, "Oh my god," she whispered, "Not him. Please, not him…"

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Desperately tracing Aragorn's tracks, they came across an orc still wheezing and laughing as the life bled out of him.

Gimli, with increasing dread, stood over the orc, brandishing his axe, even as Buffy watched on mute with fear and dread, "Tell me what happened and I will ease your passing." Gimli ordered.

The orc simply laughed, one that sent a chill through their hearts, "He's … dead." he said, coughing and laughing, "Took a little tumble off the cliff…"

Legolas looked towards the edge of the cliff even as Buffy's eyes widened and he grabbed the orc, "You lie!" But even as the orc died in his grasp, Legolas spotted a familiar sparkle in his hand and with increasing sorrow and dread; he reached down and lifted the Evenstar necklace.

He ran to the cliff even as Buffy picked up the orcs blade, stained with red blood. Aragorn's blood.

Silently joining her friends at the ledge, she looked down at the great drop and the rushing waters below, intermingled with treacherous rocks.

There was no sign of Aragorn.

Calmly, too calmly in her friends' opinion, she held out the blade, "It was poisoned." she said blankly, "Even if he survived the fall…." She could not say the words. Could not say that he was dead.

From behind them, they heard Théoden's voice, "Get the wounded on horses. The wolves of Isengard will return. Leave the dead."

Legolas turned in anger, "We must find him!"

Théoden saw the necklace in his hand and Buffy's blank stare towards the cliff drop and knew what had happened. In sympathy, he put a hand on Legolas's shoulder, "We must go before more come," he said softly, "Come."

And then he walked away, leaving the trio of friends to their privacy and their grief.

Legolas grasped Buffy's arm, "I am so sorry, meldiren," he said quietly and opened his fist to show her the Evenstar necklace.

Dumbly, Buffy took the Evenstar necklace from Legolas's hand, "He cannot be dead! He cannot!" she cried in anguish, the numbness vanishing as her heart broke again.

"Buffy, he fell. I am sorry but we must move on," Gimli said gruffly, patting her on the back in an attempt at comfort, denying his own grief until a more private time.

"No, I must look for him. He is my charge. I swore not to leave him." Buffy said, trying to move towards the cliff, to find a way down but Legolas's strong grip held her back.

Legolas looked at her in pitiful and sorrowed understanding, "You could search for weeks and never find him. You said yourself that he has been poisoned as well. there is nothing we can do, mellon. If he is alive, trust that he will come back to us. And if he is not, then you are better served at Helms Deep. Théoden lives in a dream world. You were a captain of Gondor; the men will follow you where Théoden cannot lead them."

"I am a captain of nothing!" Buffy said, her vision clouded with tears she refused to let fall.

And as anguish filled her heart, and the bond she seldom used remained empty as it never had been before, she allowed Legolas to lead her away.

He was gone.

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As her devastation grew stronger at this loss, at her failure, so did her need for revenge. And so when the foresight came, 'twas with cold and malicious revenge that she saw the wizard's destruction.

She cared not who did it. As long as everything he had was ripped away from him piece by piece. The booming, chanted words of his imminent destruction echoed in her head and put a fell smile on her face.

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'To Isengard! Though Isengard be ringed and barred with doors of stone,

Though Isengard be strong and hard, as cold as stone and bare as bone,

We go, we go, we go to war, to hew the stone and break the door;

For bole and bough are burning now, the furnace roars - we go to war!

To land of gloom with tramp of doom, with roll of drum, we come, we come;

To Isengard with doom we come!

With doom we come, with doom we come!'

Saruman would get what was coming to him.

The Ents would not kill him. But he would lose everything he had built.

And when she was ready….

She would take away his life just as he had taken away Aragorn's….

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A/N: Well? What do you think? Opinions please! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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Next chapter: They reach Helms Deep… Buffy is in shock… Arwen and Elrond talk…. Preparations for war…. And Haldir comes back into this fic!

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Elvish:

Meleth - love

Undómiel - Evenstar

Daernaneth - grandmother

Adar - father

Gwenyn - twins

Namárië - farewell

Meldiren - my friend

Mellon - friend

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Bruinen - translated: Loudwater. The river bordering the valley of Rivendell. It is under Elrond's sway and he can make it flood at need.

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Éomer - son of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2991. Has lived with Théoden King since his parents death 3002.

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Éowyn - daughter of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2995. Has lived with Théoden King since her parents death 3002.

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Gríma Wormtongue - Counsellor of King Théoden and agent of Saruman.

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Háma - Captain of the household of King Théoden.

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Hornburg - fortress in Rohan at the entrance to Helm's Deep

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Orthanc - the great Númenórean tower in the Circle of Isengard. Home of Saruman.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	44. Desperate Hours

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Aragorn and Buffy's strained relationship ever be resolved? What will Aragorn do with the information, the secret, that he now knows? What has Arwen planned? And what will happen when the Three rise up in fury? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty when she's now the hunted? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And what path does Boromir now follow?

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Author's notes: Ah… the great debate begins… To kill Haldir or not to kill Haldir? That is the question…. I do wonder what I will do….. (Cackles)

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Review responses:

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - thanks! Kill Wormtongue? I am not finished tormenting him yet!

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Anya Observian - Didn't get any of that. But thanks anyway!

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Anyanka of the Ocean - Thanks! Sorry, glad to see that you're revived now. Ouch about the elbow! I sympathise!

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Arcrose - wow! I'm flattered! Thanks! And no one is getting a word about Haldir out of me! I'm going to give you a hint. Saruman's little helper is already crispy… one of them anyway… and why would I want to stop stuff going boom? I like it when things go boom… update on the hobbits will be soon enough, when they reach Ithilien. And no, it was not the Valar interfering in Aragorn's dreams…. Say more like meddling relations…

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Boo - considering what I have planned, both.

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BuffyandDracoLover - Éowyn gets a wake up call, don't worry.

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Dreamer Child - thank you! Helms Deep should be good indeed! (Laughs madly) Interesting scenario on Aragorn and Buffy's reunion. But I hope you like my version! And you sound like your health has had an extreme amount of bad luck.. But hey, I certainly can't talk!

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FallenStar2 - Of course, I'm Evil. I aspire to it. And you might be right about Éowyn's future lover…. And I hate to break it to you, but you don't have to jinx Buffy… my muse does enough of that… and the very image of Sauron handing Buffy kegs of beer just makes my head spin….. And Éowyn confronts reality in this chapter… and how did you guess about the Reunion? Maybe, I'm getting predictable… (Author ponders. Then smiles. Light bulb goes off over her head. Hmmm, who can I kill spontaneously then? She wonders…) And let's just say that Arwen has other places to be… (looks everywhere but at the readers….) As for the giant Balrog pit that is school, I have 14 weeks until exams. Then a month of having my brain fried by said exams. And only then am I free…. (Asha begins to scream hysterically…) Someone save me!

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Haley - thank you! You're not wrong. He wasn't poisoned in the books, and yes the matchmakers (both of them) were the ones meddling with dreams.

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James - (looks mysterious) Could be…..

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Kit-Kat - thanks! And you're right about Galadriel! And Buffy assumes that Aragorn is dead because the bond has snapped and Legolas trusts her judgement because she's always known in the past. I honestly don't know why they didn't look in the movies, but hey, that's Peter Jackson's problem.

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Light Spinner - thanks! I suppose it can be confusing but if you've got this far into the story in the first place, I think most people will have gotten it.

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Liit06 - thanks! And Buffy didn't search for Aragorn because she thinks he's really dead as their link went dead. And Aragorn was kinda caught up with other concerns when talking with Éowyn, so he wasn't really in devious mode right then. And Buffy finds out the whole charade in this chapter!

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Lindiel Eryn - thanks! And you are right about the Three. And definitely not malicious! But you do make a very good point…

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Loki2525 - very soon…

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Lunawolf - thank! And as I've said before, no word of Haldir's fate shall reach my keyboard. And no, Aragorn was not poisoned in the book. That was my own invention. It leads up to something… you'll see in this chapter!

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Mari - hi! And no, nothing similar to Dawn. (Muse snarls at Key) And you know I can't tell you where she's going to end up! And yes, the twins are Trouble…

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Pamie884 - thanks! And the twins should have an interesting impact on certain characters' sanity…. And oh yes, I definitely can imagine…

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PrecariousPersonata - thanks for the review! Well ,I suppose you do kinda feel sorry for Éowyn but then think of the guy she ends up with!

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Sabia - thanks! And should I be worried? The Wrath of Sabia sounds ominous….

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Shabopo - thanks! Glad to see that I've converted you to my fic anyway! And Buffy's past… Well, let's just say that Aragorn is going to get a crash course….

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ShawThang - hi! And it's Buffy's bond with Aragorn that makes her think he's really dead. It's dead to her, so she thinks he's dead too. And I suppose I can throw in some fluff… as for Boromir, I honestly don't know but I can tell you that I'll be bringing back Faramir soon!

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Star - Thanks so much! And that is the question isn't it? Don't worry, the answer is in this part! And you're definitely going to see some Narya action soon! And yes, I have something planned for the reunion! And the part was Galadriel's letter was backdated to February 14 so it reached Rivendell before the Fellowship left Lórien. I just had to put the twins in!

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Talina - I was in hospital. No computer access. So stop sulking! And you may have a point, but then again, you may not. Hmmm, what could be crossing my evil little mind? And Buffy just knows… she doesn't really get how she knows, (she's a little too mad) but she knows…

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Tenshikoneko03 - (pouts) I thought you were my friend! No, seriously, I'm not saying anything about Haldir yet.

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Wild320 -I think everyone is hoping that!

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XinnLajgin - depends…

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And major thanks to:

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Athene Saile, Balinese, General Mac, GoldenRat, Imp17, jumping-jo, Night-Owl123, slayergirl, Sukera, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Tommy14,

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CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR: DESPERATE HOURS

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What though the field be lost?  
All is not lost - the unconquerable will,  
And study of revenge, immortal hate,  
And courage never to submit or yield:  
And what is else not to be overcome?

- John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book I

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Helms Deep, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 5.

Éowyn paused to wipe her brow, careful to keep her face impassive. She looked at the men with her, "Where is the rest?" she asked, unable to believe that this was all the supplies they had with them.

The man's face was grim as he answered, "This is all we could save, my lady."

She nodded, surveying it and knowing it to be too little but she withheld her sigh and did what she had to do, "Take it into the caves." She opened her mouth to say more but the sound of the horn blowing through the fortress forestalled her and even as she whipped around, she could hear the sounds coming from the gate, "Make way for the King!"

Lifting her skirts, she raced towards the gate to meet with her uncle and his warriors. Dodging the crowds of people intent on doing the same, she made it to the level of the gate just as the guards were trying to clear a path for Théoden.

"Make way for Théoden! Make way for the king!"

Coming to a stop near the horse of her uncle, she studied the ragged train of men following him in, and with horror, she noted how many were not there. "So few…" she said, composure slipping for a moment, "So few of you have returned…"

Her uncle looked weary and grim as he climbed down from Snowmane, "Our people are safe. We have paid for it with many lives." he said gruffly. But there was something in his tone that alarmed her. And worried, her eyes quickly scanned the survivors, looking for him…

Spotting the small figure of the Dwarf, she went over to him, "My lady…" he greeted her but she was in no mood for pleasantries.

"Lord Aragorn, where is he?" she demanded.

"He fell…" a voice as cold as the snows of Caradhras informed her and she turned to find a strangely unanimated Buffy looking at her. The Elf walked beside her, concerned eyes trained on her figure. "He is dead." The blonde head dispassionately looked at the crowed gathered, "Where's the rest of the cavalry?" she asked with no emotion, "Or is this it?"

Éowyn, visibly shaken, tried to answer, "Lord Erkenbrand suffered heavy losses it is said. Alas, he has not made it here yet. But some of his men were left to hold the Deep. Though many more are wounded." She tried to meet Buffy's eyes but could not hold that gaze. Those hazel eyes seemed dead, and yet some unholy light seemed to flicker in their recesses. One that chilled her to the bone. She could not bear to look into those dead eyes, blank save for that dangerous fire.

Legolas noted her discomposure and knew it for what it was when she dropped her eyes. Even he had never seen the slayer like this. For that was what she was. It was if all that made her human, all that made her feel had been ruthlessly repressed and it was only a killing machine that remained. As cold as ice and deadly.

"I am sorry, my lady," he said with some sympathy, looking at the young Shieldmaiden, "But he fell. I am afraid that Buffy spoke true. And now, I must leave you." Taking the slayer's elbow, he led the woman away like he never could have when she was in her right mind. For she followed him without protest, with a concerned Gimli making up the rear.

Legolas did not want anyone around when the storm that was Buffy's temper broke. She had been like this most of the way to the fortress and he did not trust it to last.

As he left with the changed woman in tow, Éowyn stared after them with dawning realisation. Buffy had cared for him too. It was if all the pieces of a puzzle had fallen into place. At once, she left in search of her uncle.

She found him upon the battlements, giving orders to Gamling, "Draw our forces behind the wall. Bar the gate, and set a watch on the surround."

"But what of those who cannot fight, my lord? The women and children?" Gamling asked, neither noticing her presence as she ran up the steps.

"Get them into the caves." Théoden said, slowing his stride as he spotted his niece, "Saruman's arm would have grown long indeed if he thinks he can reach us here. Éowyn, what brings you here?"

She was too upset to bother with formalities, "Lord Aragorn?" she said, "And Buffy? What has passed between them? For they tell me he is dead and she moves as if all compassion has fled her!"

Nodding to Gamling, who departed to give his liege some privacy, Théoden put his arm around her, "Lord Aragorn was betrothed to Buffy," he admitted, unwilling to lie to her face, and knowing the rumours would reach her ears sooner than later, "I think she has taken it hard."

Éowyn's hand flew to her mouth, "Betrothed? But that cannot be!" Her quick mind suddenly saw how her behaviour must have looked to Lord Aragorn and her old friend. And shame filled her. Oh, the pain she must have caused her! To chase so blatantly after a man who was not free! And her own folly! Was there no end to it? Was every glimpse of freedom to be denied to her? How could she have acted so? And what must they think of her!

Her uncle seemed to sense that she wanted to be alone, and gently shoved her towards the steps, "Get into the caves, Éowyn," he said and lost in the aftermath of this revelation, she, for once, did what he said.

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Legolas only left her alone when Théoden entered the room, and he visibly flinched at the cold, cold gaze she levelled on him.

Théoden had made sure that a room had been given to Buffy in the crowded fortress but though he would have much rathered planning for the coming battle than face the woman who seemed to have had her heart replaced with unyielding ice, he knew that he had to pay his respects.

"Théoden," her cool voice greeted him, an unknown quality in it sending a chill down his spine, "I assume you are here for a reason?"

"I came to say how sorry I am for Aragorn," he said awkwardly, "He was a good man."

Something flickered in those glacial eyes, but almost as soon as it had come it was gone, "He was," she said softly, playing with her gilded braid.

He felt pity for her, and for a great man fallen, "I am truly sorry. Widow's black does not befit one who looks so young."

"Widow's black?" she repeated, "What do you mean?"

"I know that you were not yet married, but he was your betrothed husband," Théoden said placidly, and her face remained impassive at his words, betraying no sign of the turmoil that lay under it, and he mistook her silence for awkwardness, "Do not worry, lady, the whole of Edoras knew ere we left and I daresay that the whole of Helms Deep knows too by now. Again, I am sorry for your loss, he had the potential to be a great man." And with that, he moved to leave.

"How soon do you expect them?" she asked, stopping him in his tracks and there was an undertone of cold steel under her words.

He looked at her, wary of her changed state, wondering how reliable she now could be, "I think that the grief wears on you, lady," he said soothingly, "Do not trouble yourself over it."

Icy hazel chips froze him to the marrow as she pinned him with her gaze, "You will not be sidelining me from this fight," she said, and it sounded like both a decree and an ominous promise, "I _will _fight. And you will not stop me."

"Are you threatening me?" Théoden asked incredulously at her imperious and dangerous look.

"Absolutely." Buffy replied airily, "And you're not exactly in a position to stop me."

"I am a king! You must obey me!" Théoden blustered and fell silent when he saw the faint tinge of amusement in her face. Like a predator's smugness when it knows that its prey is right where it wants it.

"Since when I have I given a damn about titles?" she replied, "And since you're obviously incompetent, someone's got to hold this fortress. And since I've got a bone to pick with a wizard, and the matter of a debt to settle, I'll be the one doing it."

Théoden's temper rose, "I am king here! This is my fortress! And nothing will change that!" he snapped, "What do you think you are doing!"

"Assuming control where you cannot." Buffy said, "It's not personal. Just a slayer thing. After all, I've got a score to settle. Can't have you getting in my way."

"But I am King here!" he protested again.

She walked past him, idly pulling out a dagger and testing its sharpness, "Perhaps," she agreed absently, "But I never did give a damn about authority."

"You cannot do this, you insolent wench!" Théoden hissed, grabbing her by the arm.

Instantly, faster than he could see, she had grabbed his own arm, wrenching it behind his back so hard that he could feel his bones grind together, "Listen carefully," Buffy said softly, sounding absolutely lethal, "Because I will not be repeating this. You don't tell me what to do, I tell _you_ what to do. Because I'm good at it. Saruman went after the wrong person and I plan on giving him a very big taste of what a pissed off slayer is like. Then, I am most likely going to find him, and remove his head from his body. But first, I gotta win here. So let me do my damn job and I just might not have to hurt you."

With a brutal shove, she released him, careless of his absolutely shocked and somewhat scared stare, "Go." she ordered quietly and though he hated himself for his weakness, he did.

He could not bear looking at those eyes any longer.

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"Maybe we should go see her." Legolas said, after finishing his circuit of the room for what must have been the hundredth time to his Dwarven friend's eyes.

"What if she wants to be alone?" Gimli said, pragmatic as always. "She is not someone I would be crossing about now. Give her some time to grieve, lad."

Legolas looked at him and his gaze was thoughtful, "She is going to be alone a lot. Maybe right now she needs us." he said, "She has been alone for far too long in her life."

Gimli nodded dubiously, "Right," he said, but inwardly he thought that his Elven friend was misjudging the situation. Buffy may have been grieving but she was also murderous. Very murderous. And if there was one thing his father had taught him, it was not to get in the way of a female clutching her axe.

But still, he loyally followed his friend to Buffy's room and stood behind as the Elf knocked.

The door swung open silently, and Buffy looked at them impassively, "What do you want?" she demanded frostily and Gimli knew that he had been right.

"Buffy," Legolas began, "We came to see how you were." His silver-blue eyes widened as he spotted the array of weapons thrown carelessly on the bed.

The slayer did not open the door another crack, "I'm fine," she said tightly, "And getting ready for one helluva party. Don't you guys have something else to do? You know, elsewhere?"

Legolas would not back down though. "Buffy, I know not what has gotten into you, but this cannot be good for you. You cannot pretend that it has not happened. You said yourself that you were certain he is dead. Can you not allow yourself to grieve even for a moment?"

"Slayers don't have friends, Legolas," Buffy replied, with no visible emotion, but the canny Elf caught something flickering in the depths of those cold eyes, something repressed for the moment, but not gone. "They tend to die too quickly when they're around me."

"You always had them, Dagnir, and you still do," Legolas said strongly, "Please do not be this way to us. We share your pain. We mourn him also."

She smiled but it did not reach her eyes, "Somehow, I don't think we're doing it in the same way. And relax Legolas, whatever you've heard, I'm only slightly homicidal. Théoden just likes to exaggerate."

In truth, neither the Elf or the Dwarf had heard anything of the sort, but they both had a sinking feeling that something had obviously happened. "What did you do, lass?" Gimli asked cautiously.

"Something that is so none of your business," she answered and then gave Legolas a shove across the threshold, "Now go away." she said and shut the door in their faces.

Gimli looked at Legolas, who was glaring at the door in consternation, "Oh yes, I think the lass was in a lovely mood for company," he said sarcastically, "Any other brilliant ideas, you big squirrel?"

The only reply he got was the transfer of the Elf's molten glare from the door to him.

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And in a moment, the memories are all that remain  
And all the wounds are reopening again.  
-Iron Maiden-'Blood Brothers'

In the silence of her room, Buffy sat with her back pressed up against the door, her legs drawn up so that she rested her weary head on her knees. She had not liked to do that, but it was necessary. She wouldn't allow them to die through her carelessness as well.

She was in no mood for company anyway. Ever since Théoden's visit, her mind had been whirling. Her 'betrothed husband' he had called Aragorn, and apparently, the whole of Rohan was convinced that was the case. She knew who was responsible for that. It could only be Aragorn. Although, if he had known the true significance, she did not know.

She knew she should have been furious, but all she felt was empty. There was something missing. Something that she had grown used to without even realising it until now.

And she could not be mad with a dead man. Not yet.

He had played her, yes. Masterfully so even. Well worthy of his evil Peredhil relations… He truly had backed her into a nice little corner… But she just could not work up the energy to care. Why should she care what they thought? Even if it was wrong? He was dead and he wasn't coming back.

She knew it to be true.

Even in the darkest of times, even when they had been trapped in the bowels of the earth, she could sense him, know that he was alive. But mere minutes after he had fallen over that cliff, she had felt that link break and go dead. When she tried to reach out, there was only emptiness and she grasped at air.

Her heart had cracked anew when she felt that empty space where he had used to be, just like it had when she had stabbed Angel and therefore sent him to hell. But this time, she knew, there would be no miraculous return. Aragorn was mortal, not vampire. He had gone to whatever heaven this world had.

And she had failed.

Her duty had been to make sure that the King of Men made it to his throne alive. And she had failed him at the final hurdle. Just as his destiny was being realised, he had died because she hadn't been watching his back.

And she hated herself because of it.

The world of Men had lost its leader, its hope.

And while she knew that Boromir was out there somewhere, she honestly didn't know if he could pull off what Aragorn could have done.

But though her head was beating itself up for her failure, her heart was now shattered into thousands of bloody fragments. Why did everyone she love have to die? Was she cursed?

She rose heavily and after checking that the door was locked, went over to the bed, placing the weapons on the chair and cast herself down on the bed and alone, she wept. For herself, for him, for everyone.

She drowned herself in the only tears she would allow herself to shed until the oblivion of sleep overtook her.

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But though she slept, heart-sore and weary, 'twas not yet time to rest.

A warning had to be both sent and received…

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She stood on the balcony of a tower. The light was dim but she made out two figures in front of her; one a skulking, shrinking man in a fur lined cloak, the other was a tall figure clad in white. She knew who they were.

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They did not notice her as she sidestepped them and her eyes widened in horror as she looked out at the expanse that had once been the tree-lined Wizard's Vale.

A vast army lay assembled on the plains, more orcs and Uruk-hai than she had ever seen in her life, as well as no few Dunlendings, all roaring up at them. Saruman stepped right past her and silence fell. "A new power is rising…" he announced grandly, "Its victory is at hand!"

The army stomped and roared back up at them, even as Buffy realised what was going on. "This night, the land would be stained with the blood of Rohan! March to Helms Deep! Leave none alive!" he shouted, "To war!"

The army roared its eagerness to obey and Buffy took a deep breath as she counted the numbers that Saruman was sending against him. This was not an army just to win a battle, it was one designed to destroy a country….

As the army started to depart, Saruman's cold gaze travelled to the plains of Rohan, in the direction of Helms Deep, "There will be no dawn for Men." he sneered and behind him, Gríma just whimpered.

And Buffy closed her eyes in horror.  


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Bolting upright, she wasted no time and staggered out of the room, racing through the halls and ignoring the many shocked looks directed at her.

"Legolas!" Buffy said breathlessly, when she found them, grabbing the Elf's arm, "Come Gimli!" she ordered as she dragged the Elf and the Dwarf into a deserted room. "I have had one of my vision dreams," she said without preamble, eyes wide, "Saruman's emptying the whole of Isengard against us... Ten thousand Uruk-hai and Dunlendings."

Gimli's mouth dropped open and Legolas's eyes widened, "Ten _thousand_!" the dwarf breathed. "Are you sure!"

"Positive," Buffy replied, "How the hell are we going to hold the fortress? There can't be more than a four hundred soldiers here at most! And we have maybe a thousand altogether if we gather everyone still able to wield a weapon! Now, I'm good, but I'm not that good."

"How is such an army possible?" Legolas demanded, "Are you sure about this, Dagnir?"

"Of course!" Buffy snapped coldly, "I'm hardly going to make this up am I? Now, anybody wanna tell me again how screwed we are?"

"We are doomed." Gimli said.

"Thanks," she said dryly, "Anybody got any ideas?" Panic and fear was starting to be replaced by the coldness that had plagued her since Aragorn's fall and she welcomed it. She did not need a broken-hearted woman, she needed a Slayer.

They looked blankly at her, "You must tell Théoden," Legolas said urgently, "He needs to know what he faces. When do they come?"

"I'd have to guess tonight," Buffy replied, "After all, why live tomorrow when you can die today, right?"

She was silent for a moment, weighing her options, "We gotta get everything ready," she said, "I and a handful of others fought and won against a whole Hellmouth of ubervamps. I'm not about to start losing now. Gimli, discreetly check the armoury's supplies. Tell them you've got a hankering to see how their steel is lasting or whatever. Legolas, eavesdrop on Théoden. Find out if he has any plans whatsoever or if he's just going by the seat of his pants."

They blinked at her orders, but they did not question her. This was not her first campaign and they had learned to trust her judgement.

But as she stalked off with an expression that promised death to anyone who crossed her, both of them realised that she had forgotten to mention exactly what she herself planned on doing…

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Sprawled out on a riverbank, a man lay unconscious.

Poison raged like wildfire through his veins, draining the life from him even as Hasufel stood guard over the injured man.

And far away, as a slayer tried to repress everything she felt about him, Narya flared to life. Its mistress was hurting, and her anguish passed onto the Ring that she had all but forgotten about. And feeling the bond between its mistress and this man, it reached and pulled….

In the Golden Wood, Galadriel stiffened as she felt… something… happen. Crossing to her mirror, she looked at Nenya in consternation. Sometimes she felt sure that they seemed to have a mind of their own… but how could that be possible?

As Narya wrapped tendrils of fire around and within the downed man, engulfing him in fire, Aragorn dreamed.

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"May the grace of the Valar protect you…." Galadriel whispered….

He saw flashes of a life not his own… but that of Narya's mistress…. Saw what had remained hidden… saw things that he had never imagined existed… saw what Narya wished to show him…. For him to understand… to learn…. To know….

He gasped as he felt the bands of fire wrap around his heart and he felt like he was burning from the inside out as the poison killing him was nullified.

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He saw Buffy as he had never seen her before… watched her run a sword through a man reaching out to her as some sort of swirling… thing…. opened behind him…. Saw her tears… felt her pain….

As Narya retreated from his mind, lifting him from the induced sleep designed to block out the pain of his healing, Aragorn opened his eyes. He knew what he had to do….

Hasufel nudged him in concern and he grabbed a hold of the horse's mane, pulling himself up onto the horse.

And together, they set out for Helms Deep and he prayed that he was not too late…

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Arwen kicked the pack under her bed as she heard the barely perceptible footsteps approaching and cast herself into the chair, staring out at the scenery as Elrond entered the room. He could not know what she planned.

"Arwen," he said softly and she turned to look at him. She knew what he wanted. And she could not give it to him. But his own meddling would provide her with what she wanted.

"Tollen i lû. I chair gwannar na Valannor. Si bado, no círar." he said, looking at her lovingly. (Arwen, it is time. The ships are leaving for Valinor. Go now... before it is too late.)

She knew she could not give in, not right away. His suspicions must not be raised. "I have made my choice." she declared, "I will not go."

Elrond's fists clenched, "He is not coming back." he said cruelly, "Why do you linger here when there is no hope?"

"There is still hope, ada," Arwen said, "He is one of the best warriors in Elvendom. If you trusted Elladan and Elrohir to go, why do you not trust him to come back?"

"Undómiel," he pleaded, seating himself beside her and taking her hands in his, "Please go before it is too late. He will join you in Aman if he lives. Go West, Arwen."

"Why must I go?" she demanded, "When everyone else stays here to fight? Are you worried that I will rescind my choice? It will not happen. I have made it. There is no going back."

"Arwen, please," Elrond said, "I could not bear to lose all three of my children… please…"

She looked at him and her eyes widened, "You do not expect them to win, do you?" she said incredulously, "You do not even expect my brothers to return? How could you adar? You set them on this course!"

"It was never anything more than a fool's hope," he said, knowing his words hurt her but unwilling to admit his true reason. That with Vilya acting so strangely, he might not be able to hold the valley when the assault came….

Long into the night they argued but when morning came, Arwen joined the group of Elves travelling to the Grey Havens.

As she joined the small procession, she looked at the sad expression of her adar and felt sorry for the hurt that she was going to cause him.

She could not let everyone else in her family fight in this war except her. And there was not one thing her adar could do to stop her now…

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Elrond heard the reproachful voice of Galadriel in his mind, but surprisingly, she said nothing about Arwen. '_The power of the enemy is growing…_' she said, '_Sauron will use his puppet Saruman to destroy the people of Rohan. Isengard has been unleashed… The eye of Sauron now turns to Gondor, the last free kingdom of men. His war on this country will come swiftly. He senses that the Ring is close… The strength of the Ringbearer is failing. In his heart, Frodo begins to understand. The quest will claim his life. You know this. You have foreseen it. It is the risk we all took.'_

'_It was_,' Elrond agreed, '_But the choice was made. There is nothing we now can do for them.'_

'_Is there not?' _Galadriel asked, '_Is there really nothing? In the gathering dark, the will of the Ring grows strong. It works hard now to find its way back into the hands of men… Men, who are so easily seduced by its power. The young captain of Gondor has but to extend his hands, take the Ring for his own and the world will fall. It is close now… so close to achieving its goal. For Sauron will have dominion of all life on this Earth, even until the ending of the world. Do we leave Middle-earth to its fate? Do we let them stand alone? I had expected better from you, Elrond._'

'_What can we do?_' Elrond said in frustration, "_Our time, the time of the Elves is over!'_

"_No, it is not,_' Galadriel said, '_Our time is waning, but it is not yet over. We are stronger than we have been in all this age. Do we do nothing?_'

Elrond sighed, '_What is it that you want, Galadriel?_' he asked.

'_I_ _wish to help them_." the Lady replied, '_We must do something_.'

And as she outlined her plan, Elrond agreed. Maybe their time was not yet over after all….

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Haldir arrived promptly at his Lady's summons.

She looked at him with those fathomless blue eyes, "Haldir, I have a task for you, if you chose to accept it."

"I am yours to command, my Lady," Haldir said with a bow.

"The land of Rohan stands on the brink of destruction," she said, looking at him, "Lord Elrond and I have decided that the Elves must help the Secondborn and fight alongside them once more. I would have you lead them. Will you do this?"

"I would be honoured," Haldir said, "There are still those of us who remember the better times of the Last Alliance."

"You will lead two hundred Edhil to the fortress of Helms Deep." Galadriel ordered, "Full armour is waiting for you. My husband sees to it as we speak. Seek out Legolas Thranduilion when you get there. He will tell you where to strike."

Haldir bowed again, "I will see that it is done," he said. And as she looked at him, she knew he would see their work done.

"Then may the blessings of the Elves go with, Marchwarden," she said, rising to her feet, "And may we see you safely home when it is over…"

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When Aragorn, son of Arathorn, rode into Helms Deep, it was to the amazement of all.

Even as someone raced away to get Buffy and Legolas, Gimli started to shove his way through the crowd that was quickly gathering around the man. "Where is he? Where is he? Get out of the way! I am going to kill him!" the Dwarf boomed and then he was in front of a bemused Aragorn, and much to the man's surprise, he hugged him, "You are the luckiest, the canniest and the most reckless man I ever knew! Bless you, laddie!"

Buffy approached next, standing frozen in shock for a long moment, but as their eyes met, something fizzled between them, breaking her out of her daze and she hugged him too, "You're not dead!" she exclaimed unnecessarily.

Aragorn winced, "No. However, I am still in some pain."

Immediately, Buffy pulled back and everything in her demeanour changed. She could not believe the conflicting emotions running through her, the euphoria and delight mingled with the furious and confused but she did know one thing. - It was all his fault.

"Aragorn Elessar!" she began furiously, as Gimli backed out of her way, and Aragorn's eyes widened in alarm, "How dare you? What were you thinking! Are you trying to get yourself killed! Oh, wait a minute, of course you are! That is your job after all! Do you have any idea what you put me through, you big inconsiderate ape! Do you realise what Elrond would do to me if you died? Do you? And what about your brothers? And not to mention… umph!"

Aragorn, recognising the beginnings of a full fledged slayer rage, did the only thing that sprung to mind to silence her. - He kissed her.

She allowed it for a moment ere she pushed him away and noticing his wince, she grabbed his hand, "It's time to patch you up, buddy." she said leading him away, and never noticing Éowyn's pained eyes following them…

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Buffy struggled to retain her calm as she bandaged Aragorn's wounds. The man had been strangely silent since they were left alone and she was of no mind to break the silence. She did not know what to say. The bond had been dead. How could she have been wrong? And yet, the minute she had set eyes on him, she had felt the bond flare back to life. She did not understand it at all. But she knew that she could not afford to blubber and so tried to stay behind her mask of the icy slayer.

But she did have one bone to pick with him now that she could see for herself that he was alright….

"Aragorn," she began, "What the hell have you been telling people about the non-existent us?" she demanded. "Because we are not betrothed!"

Aragorn looked at her and knew exactly what she meant. "I never said that we were!"

Her eyes narrowed, "I don't believe you for a second," she hissed, "Did you think it was funny or something?"

"You gave me your permission," Aragorn pointed out.

"To pretend to Éowyn. Not the whole of Rohan!" she cried, "To _pretend_! Instead, I had Théoden in here being all patronising about the loss of my 'betrothed'. What were you thinking? Or were you just looking for me to beat you up?"

But he was not in the mood to dance around this issue, "Who is Angel?" he asked and silenced her immediately.

"What do you mean?" she asked tremulously, images of her running Angel through coming to her mind.

"You stabbed him, did you not? Your first love?" Aragorn said, standing up and backing Buffy up against the wall, "And do not lie to me."

Her eyes were haunted, "How do you know about that?" she demanded softly.

"I know more than you dream I do," Aragorn replied, "Just as I know that you have lied to me."

"Yeah?" Buffy snarled, "When? You're the one poking about in my business!"

His eyes were intent and challenging, his expression determined, "I find it interesting when my _wife_ neglects to tell me that we were ever married." he said levelly.

She froze, unable to believe what she had just heard. "You've got to be kidding me, Aragorn," she said, trying to bluff, "We are so not married. In fact, we're not anything."

Aragorn grabbed her arm to prevent her moving away, "And now you lie to me again. Buffy, I know everything… Did you really think that you could keep it from me forever?"

She knew that she was busted and she felt panic welling up within her but she ruthlessly forced it down. She had to be cold. "Considering it wasn't an intentional thing, I figured time would make it a divorce." she said, "We are not married. We are nothing to each other. You've got the wrong idea."

"I do not think I have," Aragorn hissed, "I love you and I have told you so repeatedly. I know you return my feelings and then I find out that on nearly every level, we have been married, - bound, - and you kept it from me. Deny it all you want, but according to those that have studied these things, I am your husband and you are my wife. And yet, you still persist in this denial!"

She forced herself to look into livid grey eyes, "I had my reasons," she said, "I still have my reasons. This changes nothing, Aragorn."

"This changes everything!" Aragorn exclaimed, "Everything!

Her eyes widened as she felt the bond pulse with something and the stunned expression on his face told her that he felt it too. "Aragorn, stop. Please." she said quietly, "Don't do this."

"Don't do what? Clear the air? Ask for the truth?" he demanded, "Which is it Buffy? What about me do you find so repulsive that you must run from me?"

Her heart skipped a beat, "I don't find you repulsive," she said quietly, "The reasons are mine. They have nothing to do with you."

"So Arwen was just a convenient cover for you to hide behind?" Aragorn said, his grip on her arm tightening ominously, "Is that it?"

"Aragorn, I never meant to hurt you!"

"Well, you have failed then, Dagnir," he ground out, "Do you really think that I will give up now? I can _feel_ you! Everywhere. I know when you are in the room; I know that you are hurting; I can feel your love! And yet you withhold it from me for no good reason!"

She pushed him, sent him reeling, "I am the Slayer." she hissed, "I am a killer. I am not what you need me to be. You are going to be King, Aragorn. Don't give me that crap about love. I know the real world doesn't work like that! You think that we ever stood a chance! That this would ever work! I kill people for a living! Everyone I love dies! Do you really think that I would ever let you be the next one? I've made the mistake of being a fool for love too many times before. It always ended the same way; - in heartbreak and tears. And on your side, usually a tombstone or a one way ticket away from me. _Do not_ stand there and preach at me! Because you have no idea what my life is like!"

"I know what your life was like!" Aragorn shouted, "I saw it! I do not know how, but I _saw_ it, Buffy! I know what you were, what you are! Do you really think I care! I love you!"

"Sometimes that's just not enough," Buffy said quietly, "Sometimes it's never enough."

He moved forward and caught her again and saw the resolution in those hazel eyes, "I cannot accept that. I do not accept that. Some things are meant to be, Buffy."

And with that, he leaned in and captured her lips with his own. Surprised at the move, and with her own emotions raging, Buffy felt herself give in unwittingly as heat flared between them both and the bond pulsed brightly in both their minds.

When he pulled away, he placed one finger on her lips, forestalling the hard words she would say, "I know what it is you would say, and I do not want to hear it," he said, "I am not going to give up, Buffy. We are married. Bound. Do you ever think I could wed another? I hear what you say, and I deny it all. Some things are meant to be. _We_ are meant to be. I will not hear anything else. Time is against us now, but let me make this clear…. After this battle is over, I am coming for you. And we will sort this out once and for all. You cannot hide your heart forever Buffy. Not when you are mine and I am yours."

Fear was reflected in those hazel depths and the slayer trembled slightly. How was she to drive him away now?

He kissed her cheek, "Be safe, nín hervess, nín meleth," he said softly, caressing her cheek, "Because this is not over."

And with that, he stalked out, leaving a panicking slayer to figure out what the hell she was supposed to do now….

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A/N: So? What do you think? How was the reunion? Opinions please! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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Next chapter: The Battle of Helms Deep begins… more Haldir!… Arwen launches her own plan… and Saruman's forces have surprises the defenders have never imagined…

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Elvish:

Dagnir - slayer

Peredhil - Half-Elven (Plural)

Tollen i lû. I chair gwannar na Valannor. Si bado, no círar - it is time. The ships are leaving for Valinor. Go now... before it is too late.

Ada - dad

Undómiel - Evenstar

Adar - father

Edhil - Elves

Thranduilion - son of Thranduil

Elessar - Elf-stone

nín hervess - my wife

nín meleth - my love

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Aman - also called the Blessed Realm, Valinor or the Undying Lands. Home of the Elves in the West.

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Éowyn - daughter of Éomund of Eastfold and Princess Théodwyn, sister to Théoden King. Born in 2995. Has lived with Théoden King since her parents death 3002.

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Gríma Wormtongue - Counsellor of King Théoden and agent of Saruman.

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Hornburg - fortress in Rohan at the entrance to Helm's Deep

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

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Orthanc - the great Númenórean tower in the Circle of Isengard. Home of Saruman.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	45. Die Hard

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Aragorn and Buffy's strained relationship ever be resolved? What will Aragorn do with the information, the secret, which he now knows? What has Arwen planned? And what will happen when the Three rise up in fury? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty when she's now the hunted? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And what path does Boromir now follow?

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Author's notes: (Wipes a way a tear) Awww! You guys are so beyond sweet! Every time that I am feeling down, I read the reviews you guys give me and hey presto, I'm super giddy and happy! Really, the value of that encouragement is beyond words. This story has spanned into an epic and you guys are always there every step of the way! So I say thank you. For everything. You have stuck by me as this originally twenty-ish chapter story has turned into a saga almost beyond my comprehension and I realise that I do thank you for that too rarely. So again, major thanks to all of you!

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P.S - A bit of friendly advice…. Buckle up. It's going to be a bumpy ride…

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Review responses:

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Anya Observian - you're crying? Wow. And what would I do with your eighth battalion of airborne flying mutant ninja monkeys?

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Anyanka of the Ocean - thanks! Buffy's little Kendra act hasn't gone away. Saruman and Aragorn just shook her out of it for a while.

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Arcrose - yes, the dream she had in Fangorn really hasn't helped matters… of course, what everyone doesn't know is whether there's any truth in it or not…

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Becky - thanks! And no dream. And I am taking the Irish Leaving Certificate. It's the equivalent of British A-levels.

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Boo - In the movies, it was Brego, formerly Théodred's horse but in the books, it is Hasufel. I found Hasufel more plausible so I went with him.

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ChibiChibi - welcome back! And whoever gets through a battle unscathed? Especially everyone? And when doesn't Buffy find a way to run when it gets too much? Remember 'Anne' in LA?

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FallenStar2 - thanks! You might be wrong about Arwen. And I'm off the opinion that very few people can even slow down Buffy, let alone stop her. And something's going to snap. Yep. Next chapter. Beware. Evil muse was not only hyperactive but had just returned from the annual holiday to Hell, so it was just brimming over with ideas!

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Fan - awww! You really are too sweet! Thanks to both of you!

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GoldenRat - that was the idea…

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Goldenshadows - thank you! Aragorn will not be having any more flashbacks but he does know more than he has said.

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Greeneyes -thanks! And Arwen is up to quite a lot.

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Haley - thanks! And yes, Gimli is a very wise Dwarf. Wiser than Legolas in that situation. Well, Dwarves are supposed to have hot tempers and they are used to having their women carry axes. All the better to hit them with I suppose. And you definitely should feel sorry for them still. Someone's got a lot of frustration to take out on an unsuspecting orc army… about the bond, the poison was blocking it. Narya healed him but until she saw him again, the bond didn't resolidify.

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Inuyasha-lover92 - do you mean March break for you or March break for me? But sorry, either way, no can do. I'm pushed to get one chapter out a week as it is. I am in the middle of preparing for my oral exams which are in April. (Screams…)

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Kit-Kat - thanks! No, Arwen is not going to Helms Deep. Even if she flew, she wouldn't make it in time. No, I have got other plans for her…

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Light Spinner - thanks! Galadriel and Arwen's plans should be most interesting…

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Liit06 - hi Anna! Yes, I will explain the bond thing later. And you will find out some of what you want to know in this chapter. Thanks for all your comments!

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Lisette - okay, first the pleasantries. Thanks for the review. And have you got any other fics planned? Okay, I hear your point and I do understand it. And I never mind constructive criticism unless someone is being insulting. However, don't worry, I am going to do something or things extremely non-canon-y at Helms Deep…. (Smiles innocently… Forked tail swishes…) And the sequel, which I'm really excited about, will be pure originality. And of course, so far, my little plotline for it is mean as hell, extremely devious and has me cackling already, if you get my drift? And I'm relying more on movie-canon in some parts because Tolkien did not go into too much detail for Helms Deep and all the build-up. I found the movie did it better, even if differently. And I want Haldir there! And I loved that scene between Faramir, Boromir and Denethor in the extended DVD. It's why I bothered to use it. It explained things so well in a way I could not since Faramir and Denethor's entry or re-entry into this fic were a long way off at the time. And I totally agree with you on Faramir. Peter Jackson didn't give him much chance to show his true 'quality'. Although, I have my own plans for the guy. And I don't plan to degrade him.

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Lunawolf - hi! And the answer is probably. And you're right, something is definitely wrong! You suggesting a cliffhanger! But don't worry, I had a few planned anyway!

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Non-pedigree arbah - not the rangers, no. and please remember, I use flames to feed the Eye. In addition, my evil muse kinda likes them as well. For some reason, it sees them as some sort of savoury little snack for it to munch on and increase its evilness.

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Pamie884 - thanks! Glad you liked the 'verbal smackdown'! And her denial stems a lot from Angel, and Riley, Parker, and Spike really didn't help matters…

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Phoenix83ad - welcome back! It's been a while! And here's a hint for the sequel, no one except Aragorn will ever be able to cause her more pain than Angel/Angelus. And Arwen isn't leaving… West anyway.

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Shabopo - aww! Thanks so much! And definitely a rocky road. With a few potholes… or is that chasms? (Asha ponders….) Thanks for taking the time to comment! They always make me go all giddy and happy-like!

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Siren's Call - Éowyn is honourable. She will concede defeat in that quarter.

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Talina - thank you! Yes, you will be finding out what Aragorn was shown gradually. Exams in five weeks! Ouch! I've got orals start of April, so I sympathise, I really do. Although, I'm doing the Leaving Certificate.

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Tenshikoneko03 - he's got other surprises than vampires.

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The Greymalkin - you're going to have to die a little longer then…

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Tommy Byrn - gee! Thanks!

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And major thanks to:

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BuffyandDracoLover, Catgirl Elf Princess, Dreamer Child, General Mac, Imp17, jumping-jo, Lady Meridia, Maleficus Lupinus, mary4angelus, Miss Ai, Night-Owl123, rogue-angel82, Sukera, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Tommy14, vixen519, White-Witch-Sakura, Wild320,

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CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE: DIE HARD

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"Courage is the resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not the absence of fear."

Mark Twain  


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The Keep, Helms Deep, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 7.

"What's with the pacing! Do you need to be walked?" Buffy demanded of Gamling as she watched Aragorn go head to head with Théoden. They, meaning Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn, had agreed that keeping her and Théoden from engaging in any form of verbal sparring and insulting match was most advisable. So she was relegated to looking stern, cold, impassive and all the while trying to bore a hole in Théoden's stubborn head via glaring.

Théoden blinked in shock, his face paling slightly as Aragorn told him of the army he had seen. "Ten thousand, you say?" he said hoarsely, "How is half such a number possible?"

Aragorn shook his head slowly, "All of Isengard is emptied, but I think that no one could have predicted that he would have such a host at his disposal. He has created them for one purpose; fuelled by his own hatred and greed and his subservience to Sauron. They have been bred to destroy the world of Men. And Rohan is to be the first. They are not far off now. They will be here by nightfall."

"Four hundred uninjured soldiers against ten thousand?" Gamling said softly, his own face betraying his discomposure, "Those are near impossible odds. We shall be overrun."

"You must prepare for battle," Aragorn said quietly but firmly, "You cannot trust to the walls alone."

Gamling glared at the ranger, "Sire, we do not have enough men to win this!" he exclaimed, "We have nowhere near enough! We must retreat to Dunharrow!"

Buffy scoffed, icy eyes moving from Théoden to Gamling, "Retreat to Dunharrow?" she said scornfully, "And do what exactly? Wait for them to march there too? In case you numbskulls haven't noticed, they are coming here to wipe out the people of Rohan. They are not going to stop just because you decided to run. And what's more, you can't outrun them. You've got kids and old people with you. And not enough horses left to carry them. They'd run you down before you ever reached the mountains. Listen to me on that point. After all, you trusted me once before Théoden; will you not trust me again?"

"I am King of Rohan, not you," Théoden said tightly, "But she is right, it will have to be enough, Gamling! We must hold at all costs. If we do not, then this country is lost."

"What plans have you for the defence?" Gimli asked, "These walls are stout and there is good rock here. Give me a hundred of my kinsfolk and the orcs would break upon them like water. But you cannot chance that for this battle."

"What choice do we have?" Théoden said sharply, "There are not enough men, not enough weapons, to hold the Dike. To the wall, therefore, they must come."

"Ten thousand orcs are going to storm that Dike and you are going to do nothing and let the walls stand up to a battering they cannot hold!" Buffy fumed, her tone brooking no argument.

"There is no other way. No enemy has taken this fortress while men still defended it." Théoden said stiffly.

She looked at him, "It's not going to work. But since you are going to do nothing, I'll see what I can do to shore up the defences. And the defenders."

"You will do no such thing!" the king said angrily, "I would not leave you in charge of anything if I had my way."

"Fine," she snapped out, temper weaving a dangerous line between exploding and simmering within her, "We'll vote on it. All interested in not getting in my way?"

No hands were raised. Her friends looked blatantly amused and Gamling was looking at her like she had grown two heads.

"Hah! I win!" Théoden crowed but Buffy stopped him in his tracks with one well-placed cold glare.

"What a pity that I never said this was a democracy…." Buffy said softly, "Don't get in my way Théoden. Or I will carry through on my threat. Have a nice day." And with that, she strode out, leaving the King to clench his fists in anger at her mocking tone.

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Buffy caught up with them as Théoden was surveying the Deeping Wall, just in time to see the beginnings of a showdown between Aragorn and Théoden. So she calmly waited behind the king as he put his foot in it. "They will break upon this fortress like water on rock, Dwarf. Saruman's hordes will pillage and burn, we have seen it before. Crops can be resown; homes rebuilt. Within these walls, we will outlast them. Despite your doom sayings."

Aragorn stifled the urge to sigh at Théoden's stubbornness, and having spotted Buffy coming up behind the king, looking decidedly cranky, he knew that Théoden had better see sense sooner rather than later, "They do not come for that." he said with every façade of patience, "They are not coming to pillage and burn, to leave you behind walls of stone while they make off with livestock and crops. They are coming to destroy your people. Every last man, woman and child."

Buffy was about to add her own opinion but Théoden stepped forward to hiss at Aragorn, "What do expect me to do?" he said scornfully, "Look at my men. Their courage hangs by a thread. If you continue with this nay saying, who is to say whether they will make it to the battle ere their fear overtakes them? They are brave men, but too many will have seen too many winters or too few. And everything I do is for the good of my people, son of Arathorn. If this is to be our end, then I would have them make such an end as to be worthy of remembrance."

He paused and his face was pained, "We are alone. No one will come to our aid if we call. So do not tell me what to do, my Lord Aragorn. Because you know nothing of what we face. We are not all so fortunate in our friends as you are."

"Male bonding. How sweet," Buffy's saccharinely sweet voice came from behind him and he stiffened, "Of course, I would rather you not be skiving off work but hey, that's what you do best. To remind you, time is running out. Shouldn't you be doing something besides arguing?"

He turned and glared at her, "This is none of your business, wench," he ground out, "And I take no notice of your threats."

"They aren't threats. They are promises," Buffy said coldly, "I'm not planning on dying here tonight, whatever you seem to suspect. Ever hear of positive thinking? If your soldiers think that you think they're going to lose, then they are going to lose. That ever enter that little mind of yours?"

He glared at her, spun on his heel and marched off, "Gamling!" he called, "Get the women and children into the caves! Now!"

Gamling hurried to catch up with his liege, "My lord, we need more time to lay provisions for a siege…"

Théoden shook his head, "There is no time. War is upon us! See it done!"

Left behind on the battlements, the four friends looked at each other. Buffy sighed, "Even two thousand men could not fight ten thousand." she said, "Even though it would be a hell of a lot better than what we have now. Villagers playing dress-up and a handful of guards."

"What can we do? No more men will come." Legolas said.

"Will the walls hold, Gimli?" she asked.

"They are strongly built," the Dwarf replied, "But 'twould depend on what devices Saruman has to cast them down. He would not come here without some plan to circumvent them."

"That what I'm afraid of." Buffy said. And though it pained her, turned to Aragorn, "What about you? Think you can lead where Théoden cannot?"

"It is not my place," the ranger replied, "But I promised Gandalf that the walls would hold. I trust in him. He will not let us down."

"That might be okay to say it but if he doesn't get here with a miracle in tow before Saruman's little monsters come hunting for blood, that promise isn't going to do us a whole lot of good."

Buffy was seriously worried and she was not the only one. "Four hundred against ten thousand! Me thinks this is going to be a _long_ night."

"It will be our death tonight if something is not done. Most gathered here cannot fight. The walls _will_ fall and we have to be prepared for it." Legolas said, "Saruman was one of the Istari after all."

"Drastic measures have to be taken then. What I wouldn't give for a nice little rocket launcher…" Buffy said wistfully.

"A what?" Gimli asked.

"It makes things go boom." Buffy said, "It was one of my favourites."

Aragorn's face was grim, "I think that you shall see your fair share of excitement ere the night is over."

She sighed. "Somehow, I hope that you're not right."

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"If you want anything said, ask a man. If you want anything done, ask a woman."

Margaret Thatcher, British Prime Minister.  


Éowyn glared at the poor soldier who had informed her that her uncle had ordered her to go into the caves. All around her, women and children, with varying degrees of fear and dread, were being herded into them. She refused to be one of them. She could fight! She would fight!

Dodging the soldiers leading people into the caves, she dashed through the crowd to find someone who could help her fulfil her wish.

Buffy was reluctantly walking with Legolas and Aragorn as they inspected the defences. The Elf had forcibly dragged her along as Aragorn seemed to be ignoring his demands for him to take some rest ere he collapsed. Apparently, Legolas assumed that Buffy would be better able to handle the stubborn ranger and to her ire, seemed unaware that forcing the two of them into close quarters might not have been the best of ideas.

"We'll place the reserves along the wall," Aragorn said, gesturing to the ramparts, "They can support the archers from above the gate."

Legolas frowned and tugged on his arm, "Aragorn, you must rest. You are no use to us half alive. Buffy, talk some sense into him." he demanded.

Aragorn turned to look at her, seeming to be patently amused to her eyes anyway, and so when she spotted Éowyn shoving her way through the crowd, she begged off. "Sorry, no can do, Greenleaf. Got a Shieldmaiden to see and all that. Bye!"

She intercepted the woman, "Éowyn," she greeted, "What's up?"

The Shieldmaiden looked like she was seething, "My uncle says that I am to be sent with the women into the caves." she exclaimed, "But I want to fight! Everyone says we do not have enough men to defend the Dike. Why would they turn down my sword?"

Buffy smirked, "Maybe because your uncle ordered them to. But it's not all so bad, Éowyn."

"What?" the young woman snapped, "To mind the children, to find food and bedding when the men return? To hide in the caves like I am afraid? What renown is there in that?"

"Éowyn," Buffy said quietly, "Would you calm yourself? You do realise that most people here don't want to fight, right? Or do you just enjoy the irony? You've been given a task. Which I personally agree with."

Éowyn was outraged, "You agree with it?" she cried, "You trained me! How could you be such a hypocrite?"

Buffy's expression hardened, "Because I was going to say that you've been tasked with defending those who cannot defend themselves. I was going to say that it was a good job for you. Since you can fight. And you can lead." she said, and watched Éowyn quieten at her words, "If everything goes wrong, you're going to be their last defence. It will be your job to see that they survive. And I would have thought that away from your uncle, you could kit out every and any woman able to bear arms and make sure they know how to defend themselves. Because it's going to take a miracle to hold the Keep. And if the Uruks break in, I wouldn't want anyone at their mercy."

Éowyn's eyes widened in realisation, "Oh," she said dumbly. "I had not realised."

"You're a Shieldmaiden," Buffy said, clapping a hand on her shoulder, "You'll do a good job. Just don't think that every task someone sets you is one to keep you out of the way."

"That is what my uncle is doing," Éowyn said shortly, her good humour being restored.

"Definitely," Buffy agreed with a small, vindictive smile, "But in this case, what he doesn't know, can't hurt him. So get into the caves, Éowyn. You've got a lot of work ahead of you."

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While her friends raided the armouries for armour, Buffy had drifted back to her rooms for a fresh change of clothes and to ensure that the mithril shirt of Galadriel's gift was still in place.

And so having armed herself with every weapon in her possession, sword strapped to her waist, bow and quiver thrown over her shoulder and her multitude of knives secreted around her person, she stepped into the armoury to face a sobering sight.

As long as she had been in Middle Earth, she had never seen so many old men and young boys queuing up for arms, drafted for this battle, - one that very likely might be their last. And for too many, their first.

Most of them were farmers, grooms, farriers, not soldiers. The women and children that had yet to go into the caves were giving weepy farewells to husbands, brothers, sons, fathers. It was not an easy thing to witness. Buffy felt shocked at the uneasiness it gave her. After all, she had led people who were no more than kids before. She had even been one of them. Willow, Xander, Cordelia, Oz, they had been the first. Totally unprepared for what the Hellmouth had to throw at them. Giles had been the only one with any experience but he had buried his 'Ripper' past. That group of Scoobies had kept on expanding, despite the deaths, and had eventually included the surviving Potentials. Look how well that had turned out; Willow had had her evil witch craze, Xander had lost an eye, Tara and Jenny were dead, along with too many Potentials… the list went on. One thing had been for sure; they had all hated her.

Would these new soldiers feel the same for Théoden? she wondered. And how many of them would not live to see the dawn?

So lost was she in her musings and memories that she missed the fight between a tense Legolas and Aragorn, only catching the bit where Aragorn stormed out. "Then I shall die as one them!"

As she looked up in startlement, Aragorn stalked by her, face as stormy as the sky outside. As she glanced at the Elf in surprise, she saw Gimli stop him from going after the angry ranger, "Let him go, lad. Leave him be…."

Going after the ranger before he decided to smash his hand into a wall, she caught up with him in the corridor, "Aragorn!" she called, "What the hell was that? Don't you think they were scared enough!"

He whirled and his face did not soften, "Tell that to Legolas," he hissed, "Since he does not seem to think any of us will live through this!"

"Maybe he's not too far off the mark," she said softly, "Aragorn, too many of them are only children, some are only nine or ten years old! Why are they made to fight!"

"We need everyone who can bear arms, no matter what age." he ground out.

"That doesn't make it any easier to see nine year olds trying to heft a sword. And what about the women? Why are they not made to defend the fortress? Surely they'd be better at it than mere children."

Something resembling pain flickered across his face, "Because no man could stand idly by and watch a woman they love get hurt. They need to know they are safe if they are to fight. I should know," he said softly, "I will not get that luxury… Be safe, Buffy."

With that, he quickened his pace and took off down the hall. She stood there for a moment, before returning to the armoury.

Crossing over to them, ignoring the stares in the direction of the Elf and Dwarf, she hauled them off to somewhere where they would not be so easily overheard. "What happened?" she demanded.

'Twas Gimli who answered her. Legolas seemed to be feeling guilty for his words. "Squirrel boy and Aragorn had a little argument," he said gruffly, "About the newest additions to Théoden's ranks."

Buffy suddenly understood. If sending children out to war was deplorable to a human, how much more so to an Elf? Amongst their kindred, children born on these shores were a rare event now and all children were regarded as beyond precious. To see children sent out to face the orcs instead of being protected must be beyond galling.

Eyes alight with compassion, she touched Legolas's arm, "Legolas, sometimes things like this have to happen. It's not about morals. It's about survival. No one here wants to die and to do so that army coming here has to be taken down. And there is always a cost in doing that. But they are not going to show any mercy to us and we shall grant them none in return. If we lose, they get in here and they are dead anyway. War is war, wishing's not going to change that."

The Elf looked at her and Gimli nodded in understanding, and so she continued, "Now, I know we all have a lot of frustration. And what luck, we have a whole army to take it out on. And I, for one, am not missing a minute of it… Are you ready?"

"Is 'no' an acceptable answer?" Legolas asked, giving her a weak grin as he looked around the room.

Buffy gave him a small smile, "In this business?" she said, "Always."

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As much as she tried to harden her heart to him, through some stroke of bad luck, she could literally feel the turmoil within him. And it tugged at her. And because she had enough problems of her own without adding his to the pile, she sought him out.

She found him with a young boy, clearly nervous and uncomfortable with the sword he held. Seeing Aragorn reaching out to help, she stayed herself from going to him and just watched. "What is your name?" Aragorn asked, standing up and giving the battered sword a few swings.

The boy ducked his head down, "Haleth, son of Háma, my lord…." he said nervously, "The men are saying that we will not live out the night… They say that it is hopeless.." The unspoken question did not go unnoticed by Aragorn.

Aragorn handed the sword back to the boy, "This is a good sword, Haleth, son of Háma." he said, "Your father would be proud of you." He paused, and put his hand on the boy's shoulder, forcing him to look him in the eye, "There is always hope, Haleth."

The boy nodded slowly and some resolve seemed to strengthen within him. When he had gone, Aragorn looked in her direction, "I know you are there, Buffy."

She emerged from the shadows, staring in the direction that the boy had left in, "Do you really believe that?" she asked softly.

"I do," he said, equally softly, "Do you?"

"I've seen too many apocalypses to discount it," Buffy said, "But I've also seen too many die to feel any hope that we emerge from this unscathed. If we win, there's always going to be a cost. And sometimes, it's not one that I would have been willing to pay. For so many of them here, it's suicide, Aragorn."

His face was unreadable, "It is the risk all warriors take." he said.

"They are not warriors. They're farmers, grooms, kids." Buffy said, "I'm sick of seeing kids die."

"You faced more than they in your youth," Aragorn replied thoughtfully.

Her mouth tightened at the reminder that he had somehow found out about her past, "That was another world. Another time. One that I left behind a long, long time ago."

"You never left it behind," Aragorn said forcefully, "It has always been there, haunting you. Haunting us. A shadow that I am always competing against. Did this Angel mean so much to you?"

"I don't want to talk about this," Buffy ground out, "It's none of your business, ranger."

"On the contrary, it is every bit my business," Aragorn said, "And the very mention of it makes you want to run. It will not solve anything."

"I _so_ need a vacation," Buffy muttered under her breath as she felt the beginnings of a headache coming on, "Have you any ideas for us surviving this mess?" she asked, changing the subject.

He was all too aware of her intent, "Do you not think that lies with Théoden?"

"We both know Théoden's stuck in dreamland," Buffy said, rolling her eyes, "He thinks he can win this by just sitting here. On the other hand, I think they're going to overwhelm us and get over the walls. But then again, it's not like it's the end of the world... Which is too bad, because _that _I'm really good at."

"Do you not fear death?" he asked, looking at her intently.

"I'm not afraid of dying, I just don't want to." Buffy said, "I've done it way too many times to be afraid of it now. Besides, I think Mandos would just kick me out again. It's what they always do."

She noticed the strange expression on his face, "What's up?" she asked, feeling concern despite herself.

"'Tis nothing." he lied, avoiding her eyes.

She shook her head, "No it isn't. You have a 'something' face. Now what's bugging you?" When he did not reply, she tried to cheer him up, "Do not fret Aragorn. Let them come," she grinned slightly, "And we'll kick their asses when they do."

He looked at her again and moved nearer to her. Instinctively, she tensed and hurt flashed in his eyes at the movement.

He paused in his tracks, "I cannot leave you to get hurt. Not again." he said unexpectedly.

Instantly, the awkwardness of the moment was amplified, "I can take care of myself," she said uncomfortably.

"'Tis the eve of battle," Aragorn said, "How can I not be worried when my heart places herself in danger?"

She flushed, "Aragorn, please don't do this…" she pleaded.

"Do not do what?" he demanded, closing the distance between them rapidly, "Do not fear for your life? That you will be hurt? That I will not be there to stop it?"

"I'm a slayer. I've probably the best chance of survival out of everyone here." she said, taking a step back, "You should be more concerned for yourself. You've already nearly died enough times for one week."

But she made the mistake of looking into his eyes and was shocked at the stark fear there. Fear, which brought back all her own doubts and misgivings. She had already lost too many she loved. Was he to be the next? she wondered. It was always the same way. Anyone who got close to her got hurt. Willow lost Tara because of her. Xander lost his eye. Giles was fired and tortured. Angel lost his soul and was sent to hell. Jenny died. Kendra died. Her mom died. Dawn was nearly used as a blood sacrifice. Riley became a vampire junkie. Faith went totally off the rails. Potentials died, got hurt. All because of her. Was Aragorn to be next?

As if sensing her melancholy mood, he pulled her to him, and softly kissed her. Unexpectedly she yielded to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he tangled his fingers in her hair, for once letting her emotions rein. This could very well be the last time she had this chance.

But after a moment of not thinking, just feeling, rational thought returned as she spotted the Evenstar necklace around his neck. Pulling back, she shook her head, "I can't keep doing this, Aragorn," she said, stepping back, "I can't. You are driving me crazy. And I mean that literally. I just can't do this."

As she moved away, his gaze never wavered. Neither did his determination, "You can run all you want, Buffy," he said to her back, "But whatever you think is going to happen, I will catch you."

She froze, then squared her shoulders and marched off, leaving him to ponder on how she made everything so difficult.

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The Redhorn Pass, Eriador, 3019 TA, March 6.

Arwen Undómiel reined in her horse as she crested the highest point of the Redhorn Pass.

She had travelled alone since she had broken away from her escort, and she could scarcely remember a time when she had felt so alive. For too long had her father kept her behind sheltered walls. When was the last time she had just gone somewhere when she wanted, without an escort? Not in the last five hundred years at least.

But now her choice loomed before her; to go to the relative safety of the Golden Wood or to brave the darkness and go where her heart demanded. To the realms of Men under siege. Where her foresight had told her that Legolas would come eventually.

Her brothers went ahead of her, but she would not dare join them. For all their antics, they would send her back to their adar faster than she could say hello. Middle Earth was home to her too. Not yet for her the distant West. She intended to enjoy her years here when the war was won. And she wanted to earn that enjoyment.

But she would not sit at home nor flee West while all her family save her prepared for the fight of the age. Her adar had said that the Dark Lord would strike hardest at Gondor, the realm her foster brother was to claim. And she bet that if she crossed to the shore and took ship, she could beat her brothers there. She smiled at the thought.

To Gondor, therefore, she would go.

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When the Elf horn sounded throughout the Keep, Aragorn, Legolas and Buffy could scarcely race fast enough to the gate, which a bewildered Gimli huffing and puffing in his friend's wake.

Buffy skidded to a neat stop beside an exuberant Legolas, "Looks like someone is trying to muscle in on our apocalypse." she said with a small smile. "And it looks like the orcs are going to have an extra large dose of Elven wrath. You up to it?"

He grinned ferally, eyes gleaming in a most Thranduil-like manner, "Always, Dagnir, always."

The Rohirrim were visibly stunned, and the guards all in a flutter. "Send for the king you fool!" one yelled, "Open the gate!"

As Aragorn arrived, with Théoden not far behind him, the troop of elves marched in with perfect military precision, stopping and turning at the exact same time. It was quite impressive to look at, Buffy thought idly and as usual, their armour was to die for.

As Haldir broke away from the ranks, Buffy gave him a little wave, "Welcome to Helms Deep," she sarcastically greeted the Marchwarden, "Front row seats are right over here."

He smirked at her but turned to Théoden as the king gaped at them, "How is this possible?" he said in shock.

Haldir bowed, "I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell and Galadriel of the Golden Wood." he said formally, amused as several guards jumped at his Lady's name, "An alliance once existed between Elves and Men. Long ago, we fought and died together. We come to honour that allegiance... We are proud to fight alongside men, once more."

Finished with formalities, Legolas gave Haldir a warrior's greeting, "Mae govannen, Haldir!" he said in delight, "I have longed for the bows of my kindred and here you are!"

Aragorn near shoved him out of the way, and hugged Haldir who looked so awkward as he gingerly retuned it that Buffy and Gimli had to snicker at him, "You are most welcome!" the ranger said happily.

Haldir nodded at the King and then turned to the remnants of the Fellowship. "I have messages to give to you," he said, "At the bidding of my Lady."

"Well?" Buffy demanded, "Spit it out Elf boy!"

"Can we not go somewhere more private?" Haldir asked as he noticed the hundreds of eyes gaping at the Elves. Legolas grinned in agreement and after Haldir ordered his troops to make themselves familiar with the keep, they led the Marchwarden into the Hornburg.

With a knowing smile, he handed Legolas a letter, who when he recognised the flowing script as Arwen's, promptly disappeared to read it.

To Aragorn was a more disquieting message, "She bids you to become the King you were born to be," Haldir whispered to him, "And as a side note, she would like to tell you that your plan was very, very good. What are you up to Dúnadan? What plan have you hatched now?"

Aragorn smirked slightly, "I cannot tell you that," he said, "But go, give Dagnir her message before she drags it out of you. I must see Théoden."

Buffy was waiting for him, tapping her foot when Haldir reached her. He handed her the sealed parchment, "Lady Galadriel said to give this to you," he said.

"Hannon lle," she said as she took it. As he left to see to his troops, she cracked the seal.

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Dagnir,

I have heard from a mutual meddling friend of what is now in your possession. And I send to you this advice; - need is the key.

Galadriel

Knowing instantly what the Lady referred to, Buffy glanced at her hand and the ruby stone glittering on her finger. Deliberately, she crumpled the paper and stuffed it in her pocket. Galadriel did not know what she was talking about.

She definitely was not going to use Narya.

No way.

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When the first signs of the orc army approaching were spotted by the scouts, the defenders of Helms Deep started to rank themselves along the walls. Of course, nothing could go simply when Théoden and Buffy had yet another clash, which ended up with them arguing over which side of the Deep she got to defend.

It eventually ended, not surprisingly, with Buffy winning her point. "Fine!" Buffy had huffed, "You can have _that _part of the wall!" she said, pointing to a portion of the Deeping Wall near the keep. And so, after much glowering and grumbling, she had gone to the wall and he to in front of the Keep. Which left Aragorn and Legolas directing the Elves, and Aragorn ordering a goodly portion of the Men as well.

They were all ranked now and ready. And so the waiting game began. The torches moved closer and closer under their watchful gaze, fear clutching the heart of most of the men as they saw the glint of fire off the weapons of the thousands and thousands of orcs approaching them. Buffy, surveying the men, knew from experience that the waiting was the hardest part of all. Once the fight got going, adrenaline and the survival instinct kicked in. But for now, the fear they had felt was noticeably growing.

She had, at Legolas's request, positioned herself beside him and Gimli. He knew as she did that her fighting style would work better with the Elves, who could match her more easily than men could. They would also not be shocked at her skill or her audacity, most of them knowing her either from her visits to Lórien or by reputation.

The only real problem she had at the moment, was one that she shared with Gimli. Neither of them could see decently over the top of the wall, much to Legolas's amusement, and to her disgust, Haldir's too. She had simply jumped up on a stone she had dragged up there for that purpose but Gimli had not thought so far ahead. He was waiting for the close quarter combat, not the flying volleys of arrows that the rest of them would be using first.

Still, she had to admit, the running sniping really was picking up people's spirits. She had noticed more than one Elf or man smirking at some particularly choice comment.

Aragorn approached them then, coming to stand beside them, his last minute checks done. Looking at the slayer, armed to the teeth, a coat of mail thrown on over her tunic and leather gauntlets replaced with ones of steel backing, he could not help but pray that the Valar would see fit to let her live through this nightmare.

Gimli looked up at the ranger and gave him an encouraging grin, "Well lad," he said, "Whatever luck you have lived by, let us hope it lasts the night."

"Yes, that uncanny knack for surviving sure would come in handy right about now," Buffy agreed. "But we don't need it yet."

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn." Legolas said solemnly, holding his bow of Lórien, "We believe in you. You can do this."

"Let us hope they last the night." Gimli muttered and Buffy snickered.

"Never change, Gimli, my friend," she said, slapping him on the back, "Definitely never change."

But all fell quiet as the orcs started to fill the Dike and the sound of rapid breathing was soon drowned out by the heavy rain that started to fall. Buffy eyed the thousands of enemies with swiftly repressed dismay, "Well," she said heavily, "There's something you don't see every day. Unless, of course, you're me." Aragorn's own eyes had widened almost imperceptibly at the sight and Buffy shot him a comforting look, "We'll get through this," she promised him quietly and his eyes flashed with gratitude.

But as she scanned the gathered host, she felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand up. Disquieted, she started surveying them intently, frowning as she did so. Aragorn looked at her questioningly. "Something's weird." she said by way of explanation.

Legolas looked between her and the ten thousand or so orcs, "You mean something is not?" he asked sardonically.

"It's not that," Buffy said distractedly, "It's like something's out there… I don't know what."

"Might be the ten thousand orcs, lass." Gimli said pragmatically. "Certainly enough of them out there."

The tension did not leave her, if anything, it increased. Aragorn touched her elbow, "You doing okay?" he asked with concern.

"Besides the terror about today and a general feeling of impending doom?" Buffy drawled, "Oh, just swell." She looked at him and whispered for her friends' ears only. "I think Saruman may have a few surprises up his sleeve…"

"Are you sure?" Legolas hissed.

"Something's off," Buffy said, "I can feel it… I just can't tell what… Just be careful guys."

"How can you be so calm?" Aragorn asked, "I have seen you bouncing off the walls for less."

"Long, arduous hours of practice." Buffy replied, "No, seriously. This is the big time. And I get the feeling that it is going to be a _long _night. Methinks some energy should be saved for polishing off the baddies."

"It is slightly… overwhelming…" Aragorn agreed.

She scoffed, "Overwhelming?" she teased, "How much more than 'whelming' would that be, exactly?"

His response sobered her up fast, "You know as well as I that whatever Saruman throws at Rohan will only be a fraction of what Sauron will throw at Gondor. I… I promised Boromir that I would not let the White City fall…" he admitted.

"We'll get through this, ranger boy," she said soothingly, skating away from the fact that Boromir was not really dead. "And you'll get to keep your promise. But for now, get ready. Time for the big fight scene."

From beside her, Gimli tried to see over the wall, jumping on his feet, "Any ideas for this, lass?" he asked.

Buffy cocked her head to the side and pretended to be mulling it over, "Well, I was thinking boom, boom, boom go the ladders I plan on shoving, along with a little destruction. You know, the usual. Havoc. Bedlam. Screaming baddies."

Gimli grinned at her, "Sound plan. Count me in." Both shared a feral grin as the lightning started to flash overhead.

As the orcs reached the Dike, Aragorn pulled back to divert his attention to the Elven warriors, "Legolas, Haldir," he said, "Are they ready?"

"They are ready," Haldir assured him, "But whose orders am I to follow?"

"Do not follow Théoden's," Legolas said, "He has no experience with the abilities of the Eldar. Follow Aragorn's for the volleys or if he has information to pass on, but we rely on your own judgement Haldir. You have seen the Last Alliance where we have not."

Aragorn agreed with him, "He is right. These are your own people. You know them best. Follow your own initiative. I know that you can see more than we can, and react quicker."

"Acknowledged," Haldir said. "Let us show them what the Eldar are made of, eh, Thranduilion?"

"Most assuredly," Legolas agreed with a smile, "After all, Wood Elves are dangerous, they say."

Haldir laughed, "And you most of all!" he agreed. "See to your own, Dúnadan, we shall be ready when it begins."

By this stage, Gimli was fidgeting with impatience, "Cursed wall! What is happening out there?" he demanded.

Legolas was openly smirking, "Shall I describe it to you? Or would you like me to find you a box?"

Gimli growled and glared at him, and Aragorn shook his head at their actions, "You hear those two?" he said to Buffy.

She looked between them, "I think that it's so beautiful. All that time and they're still in love. The way they finish each other's insults."

Gimli and Legolas both heard that crack and turned as one to glare at the slayer, who merely raised an eyebrow in response. "What?" she asked nonplussed, "You expected me to let that opening go by?"

But all too soon, the gallows humour was forced to give way to the sounds of battle…

And so it began…

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The Uruk-hai army charged, roaring as they did so. And the battle thus began.

Buffy and Legolas notched their bows as every bowman along the walls did the same. With Aragorn co-ordinating the Elves' volleys, with help from Legolas and Haldir.

"Leithio i philinn!" Aragorn roared and the sound of bowstring's singing competed with the whiz of the arrows that rained down on the Uruk-hai, and almost as soon as they were preparing for a second volley, Théoden was ordering his men to fire.

But it did not take the orcs long to retaliate, black bolts flying up to hit the defenders. It was a time when Buffy found being short was good as arrows meant for her impacted against the wall. But all too soon, she was forced to shoulder her bow and unsheathe her sword as the ladders started swinging onto the walls.

As Legolas and the sharp-sighted Elves concentrated on snapping the ropes holding the ladders up, Buffy and Gimli were dealing with the flood of orcs onto the wall.

Kicking one back over the wall, she stabbed another and then pulled back her arm to punch another in the face before slicing through the ropes of the ladder with her sword, sending it crashing to the ground.

Grunting as an orc jumped her, she neatly broke its neck as Gimli's axe flew beside her, "Legolas, two already!" he shouted.

The Elf danced out of the reach of an orc and shouted back, "I am on nineteen!"

The Dwarf was enraged, "Argh! I will have no pointy-ear outscoring me! Nineteen my arse!"

Buffy grinned as he started viciously hacking at the orcs, "Feel up to me joining in the game?" she said.

He shouted back in the affirmative and she smiled sunnily at him while gutting an orc, "Well in that case, I'm on twenty five!"

"Are you out of your mind?" a soldier, unused to their antics cried, "This is hardly the time for games."

"So?" Gimli and Buffy chorused as they jointly knocked down a ladder.

Haldir smirked at them as he sailed by, "Killing orcs is not a sport Dagnir." he teased.

"It is if you're good at it!" Buffy said, decapitating an orc and blocking a swing from an Uruk intent on stabbing the Marchwarden. He gestured his thanks and darted off to help one of his troops.

And as for her, she was forced to keep hacking her way through the ever growing number of orcs on the walls and worry as to when the defenders would be overwhelmed.

Because at this rate, it could not be very long…

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In the caves, Éowyn surveyed the gathered women and children and those too old even to fight now.

The thunder of the orcs stomping and shouts penetrated even into the caves and the children wept with fear. More than a few of the adults were doing the same.

Standing up, she waited for everyone's eye to fall on her. "I know you are scared." she began, "And I know that this is the last thing you want to hear but a wise woman told me to prepare for the worst. I know that you do not want to think of this, but if the soldiers cannot hold our foes back, then I fear that it will be up to us to defend ourselves."

Several cried out in fear at her words, but Éowyn continued, "All of you are Shieldmaidens of Rohan," she said strongly, "Are you content to sit back and watch our homeland fail? Or will you fight? There are enough arms here to mount a defence if we must but I must know if you are with me."

The silence seemed to stretch out into eternity but eventually, a woman stood up, one that Éowyn recognised as Freda and Éothain's mother. "I will follow you wherever you lead, my lady." she said with feeling, "I saw the orcs run down my husband. My son even now fights outside. Those spawns of Saruman shall not have me or my children."

As Éowyn sighed in relief, other woman voiced their agreement and before long, they were laying the plans for when the orcs broke in.

And despite her desire to fight outside with her uncle and his soldiers, with Lord Aragorn and his companions, she found it strangely fulfilling to rouse these brave women to take a stand.

Let the orcs come if they dared, she thought, for none of them would leave alive…

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The cry echoed through Saruman's army and caused some of the main defenders to freeze in their tracks in horror.

"Get the woman! Bring her down! There! There! The blonde one!" the order travelled throughout the army to the archers who prepared to fire on the shell-shocked Buffy even as her friends shouted for her to get to safety, to take cover. She couldn't believe it. Saruman had targeted her specifically. There had to be a reason for it. By rights, it should have been Aragorn targeted and yet the crafty wizard wanted Buffy.

Needless to say, she was not unconcerned but she was supremely annoyed. "I hate Saruman, I hate Saruman." she muttered under her breath as she dodged a hail of arrows in her direction, "Little creep. Who does he think he is? Doe he even know he's messing with the slayer? _Nobody _messes with the slayer." Buffy ranted as she ducked to avoid a particularly accurate bombardment.

"Get her!" one Uruk roared.

Looking out at them, she smiled sweetly from her place on the battlements, the very picture of innocence. "Well you could try... but you wouldn't make it."

"Surrender and we'll give you a quick death." they shouted up at her.

"No thanks, the Grim Reaper isn't really my scene." she replied tauntingly. "Don't mess with me, orcsies, you wouldn't like the results."

But cornered, surrounded by too many enemies for comfort, she could not keep track of everything.

But those who went to her aid were too late and as an orcish arrow struck her in the chest, the slayer lost her balance and toppled over the Deeping Wall….

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A/N: So? What do you guys think? You like? Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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Next chapter: We find out Buffy's fate…. An unexpected visitor comes to Helms Deep… With a friend… Haldir comes face to face with his own fate… Éowyn has her own battle to win… and the victory or loss of Rohan…

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Elvish:

Undómiel - Evenstar

Adar - father

Dagnir - slayer

Mae govannen - well met.

Dúnadan - Man of the West

Hannon lle - thank you

Thranduilion - son of Thranduil

Leithio i philinn - Release the arrows

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Háma - Captain of the household of King Théoden.

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Hornburg - fortress in Rohan at the entrance to Helm's Deep

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Orthanc - the great Númenórean tower in the Circle of Isengard. Home of Saruman.

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Théodred - Son of King Théoden of Rohan, slain in the First Battle of the Fords of Isen.

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	46. Double Trouble

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Aragorn and Buffy's strained relationship ever be resolved? What will Aragorn do with the information, the secret, which he now knows? What has Arwen planned? And what will happen when the Three rise up in fury? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty when she's now the hunted? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And what path does Boromir now follow?

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Author's notes: Okay, just for the record I never said that _Buffy_ was in danger of dying. Nope, didn't even hint at it. You, my devilish readers, deduced that yourselves. And this chapter is chock full of action! And by the way, you can thank my friend Seer-Cassandra for who dies in this chapter. I wanted to kill off one person, but she argued against it. And so instead of killing off one, I killed off more! Blame her.

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Review responses:

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Aeroprime - thank you! And I deal with death threats on a regular basis, so now I have some guard Balrogs and my own personal Aragorn and Glorfindel to leap to my defence. And I hear they have good drugs for craziness nowadays….

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Allen Pitt - orcsies? Well, you try to make something insulting and Buffy-like out of their name! About the sequel, you may be right. But my lips are sealed. And no, the special guest is not an ubervamp or Adam. It's something a little more dangerous…

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Arcrose - Get used to cliffies I'm afraid… And Narya doesn't need Buffy's permission to kick butt… and Éowyn is going to be a little busy herself in this chapter!

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Becky - You find out in this chapter!

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Belligerent-road-pylon - yes, I remember your salmon very well. Kinda hard to forget actually… and I think it should be bludgeoning Buffy now…

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Bonnie - thanks! And welcome!

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Boo - thanks for the review! And you get confused? How?

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Dreamer Child - thanks! And yes, I'm sure her friends will try to help. If they weren't a little busy themselves…

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FallenStar2 - (Looks at muse, who swishes forked tail innocently) Ah, it still had jetlag last chapter. And the bumpy ride warning was more for this chapter… And yes, Elladan and Elrohir would probably try to take Arwen somewhere safe. Like she would let them. And yes, dark, dark times are ahead! Don't be mean? Oh boy. Too late. My muse unloaded lots of nifty new plot twists from Hell… be scared…. Be very scared….

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General Mac - your wish is my command….

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Goldenshadows - maybe…

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Kit-Kat - thanks! And yes, Buffy is giving herself too much credit on the 'how many people got hurt because of me' scale, but she left Sunnydale on bad terms, with everyone blaming her for it, so it tended to stick. And Aragorn has actually made more progress than he actually realises. And RotK is starting in about one or two chapters. (Claps hands together in glee) Oh, what I have planned…. (Cackles)

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Lady - good predictions. Only I never said all the danger warnings were for Buffy…

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Lali-chan - Hi! And I never said I was killing her! And to sound like a responsible young adult, studying for your test is very important. However, I am flattered that this fic took precedence! And ouch with the wake up time.

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Light Spinner - thanks. Okay, have never seen Babylon 5 but thanks anyway. And Arwen has to stumble across at least one of them eventually… and the visitors are unexpected to everybody but Saruman and Sauron!

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Lisette - yes, I did take your comments on board. But this chapter is totally non-canon, either verse, anyway. And you couldn't even give me a hint about what type of fic you're writing!

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Mari - thanks! And yes, Buffy must learn everything the hard way. And yes, the great eyeball is very annoyed at Buffy. A few decades ago, it had the Heir of Isildur in its grasp. She rescued him. Now, he's popping up at Helms Deep. She's killed a lot of his monsters. And through Saruman, he had a hold on Théoden King, then Buffy shows up with company, and hey presto, now Théoden's fighting against him. The great eyeball seems to have a lot of bad luck thanks to her… and perhaps you had that feeling because Galadriel always seems to know everything? And why don't you want me to bring in a BtVS character, 'cos it will not be one of the Scoobies. I mean, if enough people don't want it, I'll scrap it while there's still time.

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Night-Owl123 - I live for Cliffhangers. (Sighs dramatically.) What can I say? I'm Evil.

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Pamie884 - thanks! And Haldir is so in for it.

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Phoenix83ad - of course I did! My muse demands at least one evil thing per chapter! And I like giving Éowyn things to do! She deserved to be involved! And yes, I am sending Arwen into battle. Seems only fair really, when everyone else in her family is kicking butt. And considering that she's nearly three thousand years old, yes, I think she's learned something. And the reason why Buffy and Théoden clash is because what happens when you throw two hotheads with a grudge into the middle of a very stressful, fight to the death situation? Fireworks. Lots and lots of fireworks…

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Shabopo - thanks! I also think the Angel issue is a valid one. It was the first and in my opinion, the last time that she let anyone completely in. And yes, I will be introducing a BtVS character into the fic's sequel. And the sequel is planned out and I'll start writing it as soon as I finish FK. And you've got Théoden dead on, that's one of the main reasons why I made him so hostile to her. Legolas and Gimli he can at least pass of as 'definitely not human, fear them' but Buffy is an enigma. And one that has fooled him before. And remember, he doesn't like Aragorn all that much either. He never really respects him until after Helms Deep. Also, he could believe that Aragorn has been 'coerced' or something…

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ShawThang - no, only one chapter. And bland? How so? 'Cos they are heading into a battle to the death thingy. No time for breaking down. Besides, Buffy always took out her emotions on the poor unsuspecting demons to cross her… Pity someone.

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Singapura - thanks! And I have plans for Boromir. All of which are currently top secret until we get into the Gondor sequences.

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Talina - (Smiles mysteriously) Perhaps… Happy belated Easter to you too!

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Tenshikoneko03 - Buffy isn't going to be too happy either! And you're right, definitely for Buffy especially.

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The Great and Powerful Oz - okay, in c.31, Gandalf just used a spell to bring her foresight to the fore so that he could confirm his own suspicions. And yes, Legolas and Arwen will 'hook up'.

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The Lady Reaper of the Shadows - just pitched off a wall. And Boromir will be appearing in the Gondor sequences.

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Vixen519 - she's not dead. And about Arwen, that is the question isn't it?

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Voided - welcome! And thanks!

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White-Witch-Sakura - don't worry, she survives the fall. and thanks!

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Willow Tree Pixie - I quote. 'Death is her gift'.

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And major thanks to:

Anyanka of the Ocean, CharmingStar, Claddagh, Dena, GoldenRat, Haley, icybananna89, if only u kne, Imp17, inuyasha-lover92, jumping-jo, Kae, Lady Meridia, Maleficus Lupinus, Sukera, Tommy14, Watch-Da-Rain,

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CHAPTER FORTY-SIX: DOUBLE TROUBLE

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"Maybe all one can do is hope to end up with the right kind of regrets."

Arthur Miller

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Helms Deep, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 7 - night.

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As an orcish arrow struck her in the chest, the slayer lost her balance and toppled over the Deeping Wall….

Though the arrow had mercifully been blocked by the mithril vest she wore, only tearing a nasty hole in her clothes, the momentum had been enough to disturb her already precarious balance and so fall she had.

Cursing her luck in three different languages, Buffy felt herself plummeting down into unfriendly territory and she heard the whistles of the arrows as they passed her, and barely missed.

Halfway down, she reached out and with all her might, snagged onto a ladder being pulled up onto the wall. Kicking the surprised orc off the rail, she clung on and wondered what the hell she was going to do now.

Hanging from an Uruk-hai ladder that, if the defenders were doing their jobs right, was about to be sent crashing back to earth was not exactly the best-case scenario. Then again, looking down at the jeering orcs was not exactly appealing either. Basically, she had two choices as far as she could see; try to climb up the ladder and hope the Rohirrim didn't get trigger happy with her, and considering Théoden's opinion of her, that sounded incredibly unlikely. Or two, slide down the ladder into a mass of orcs and Dunlendings. Yep, it was nice to know that her luck had followed her all the way from the Hellmouth.

Unfortunately for her, something was not too inclined to let Buffy have any choice.

As the rope pulling the ladder up was cut by the orcs below, Buffy's eyes widened as the entire frame started to plummet to the ground. Holding on as tight as she could, she waited until the ladder was within ten feet of smashing into the ground before taking a deep breath and jumping off. Rolling to minimise the impact of the fall, her breath was still forced out of her lungs and she could literally feel bruises developing due to her bone jarring tumble.

"Note to self: learn to duck." she groaned as she staggered up, only to duck right back down as a wickedly curved blade slashed past her, cutting off an inch of her braid as it did so.

Instinctively, Buffy flipped to her feet, her own sword still, thank the Valar, attached to her sword belt, and she pulled it out and slipped into defensive stance as she took a look at her enemy. The first thing she noticed was that she had landed what must have been forty or fifty feet out from the Deeping Wall, which was bad. The second thing she noticed was that the orcs were giving her, or her opponent, a nice wide berth, which was very bad. And the third thing she noticed was that her opponent was neither orc nor Dunlending, but from their colouring, an Easterling, which was very, very bad.

What was worse was that Buffy had the sinking feeling that there was something familiar about her enemy. It was a woman, with dusky skin, standing about five or six inches taller than her, wielding a blade that very much reminded her of something Faith had once tried to kill her with. That was unusual in the middle of an orc army, but what chilled Buffy to the bone was the fluid, deadly movements of the woman and an all too familiar gleam in her dark eyes. If this woman was fully human, she thought, then she was a Hobbit. She looked lethal. She looked like a slayer.

She certainly moved like one as they circled each other, and those dark, dark eyes never left Buffy's face. They were like dark pools, which no light ever reached, and Buffy nervously thought that she could see madness, and above all, the corruptive influence of some evil. Whoever this woman had been, she was no more. What stood before her was like the anathema of everything a slayer stood for; - evil. It was her opposite. And as her stomach sank further, she realised that maybe it was meant to be a slayer of slayers.

In addition, as their blades met in the first thrust and parry, Buffy also knew that she was outgunned. This was a slayer unleashed - dark and primal. Working for the wrong side, but with all the strength of a heritage that should never have reached Middle Earth. Which meant that it had to have come from her. Somehow. The speed of this creature, the sheer ruthlessness, the total disregard for personal safety and the fact that Buffy was surrounded by thousands of orcs that were not going to let her escape did not bode well for her. Galadriel's words came back to her then and this time, she knew she had at last realised the meaning of them.

'_Beware Dagnir, and take heed, Else, thou shalt live by thy predecessors' creed, For one to live another must die, Beware the evil that draws nigh, Dagnir, watcher of the dark, To the Timeless Halls you may depart, If you stray from chosen course, Remember thy birthright, One must die for another to live.'_

One must die for another to live….

Buffy squared her shoulders as she ducked under another eerily accurate swipe, feeling it scrape against the mail she wore. This woman, no, this creature, had to die if Buffy was to live. Somehow, Buffy hadn't needed Galadriel to tell her that she was in serious trouble.

Spinning over a sharp thrust from the creature's sword, she cried out in pain as a roundhouse kick was landed on her side, nearly knocking the wind out of her once more. Flipping out of the way of another blow, she did not see the sword slicing through her arm until she felt the sting of it. Instantly, the creature smiled and it was a feral, vindictive smile that chilled Buffy to see it. "Your time is ended," the creature said in accented Westron, amusement evident in its tone. "You lose."

And as Buffy watched, waiting for an opening, the woman touched her hand to the fresh blood on her sword, "Blood… such a simple thing," it hissed, "But there is such strength in it too…" As an Uruk engaged Buffy, forcing the slayer to forego trying to strike her real opponent down, the woman's body seemed to shudder, blurring around the edges, and as Buffy whirled and stabbed the Uruk-hai through the heart, she suddenly found herself facing her own mirror image.

It was eerily like seeing the First take on her own form. The only thing that did not change were those dark eyes, still as merciless and pitiless as they had been since she first encountered it. "Your time is ended," it repeated and lunged, forcing Buffy into an odd scramble to avoid the sword and the long knife it had pulled out. Knocking the knife out of its hand, she was similarly disarmed as it kicked her sword out of her hands.

However, a fist caved in her stomach as she tried to pull out a dagger and another kick to her midsection dragged her down to her knees. Desperate, she grabbed its foot, and gave it a vicious yank, dropping it right down into the mud with her. She grabbed her sword and tried to strike but it was up as well, their reflexes too evenly matched. This was a fight that could go on all night and the creature seemed to realise it too.

Crying out in a tongue that Buffy did not understand, she threw two daggers at the winded slayer, who ducked and dodged to avoid them and melted back as a circle of men closed about her. Buffy did not bother to resist the urge to curse viciously at the sight of them. Fifteen Easterlings and some sort of shape-shifter person. It just made her day. However, the shape-shifter version of her did not bother hanging around and after a quick command, which sounded way too much like "kill her", she left, dashing through the crowds of orcs. It took Buffy's baffled brain all of ten seconds to realise what was happening.

It looked like her. It moved like her. It even sounded like her. With a cloak to mask her clothes, who could tell the difference between them in this dark? Her friends would help 'Buffy' back into the fortress, never realising that she was really out here, with some not so nice people. Some sort of assassin, for Buffy had no doubt that its origins were either Barad-dûr, Dol Guldur or Orthanc, was about to get unlimited access to the Hornburg.

And a free shot at all her friends.

They would not, could not, realise until it was too late. How could they even imagine? _She_ had not even seen this coming! And she was not exactly unused to doppelgangers and other baddies, from her previous abode on the lovely ol' Hellmouth.

Even as the men drew closer, blades glinting when the lightning flashed, Buffy could only pray that she could get out of this one.

Before it was too late for everyone….

****

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It moved rapidly through the ranks of orcs until it reached the Deeping Wall. Its mission was going smoothly, and it took sickeningly little effort to gain some help to scale the wall. And it gained amusement from knowing that one of its targets had been the quickest to come to its aid.

Swiftly climbing the rope that was dropped down to it, it soon was clambering over the wall. Almost immediately, the man, the Dúnadan its master wanted dead, grabbed it and it ducked its head, clutching the cloak tighter against it. "Buffy!" he exclaimed, "By Eru! We nearly thought you were dead!"

It made a passable attempt at a smile, "Well, I am here now," it said, Buffy's voice rolling off its tongue, "And let us get back to fighting ere I do die. That could not be borne, could it?"

Aragorn looked at it strangely for a moment, sensing something was up, "Buffy, are you well?" he asked, concerned at her behaviour, but was forced to leave due to a call from Haldir.

It smiled again and gave him a slight push, "Go, you are needed." With one final, puzzled glance, he took off just as it slammed its dagger into an orc's chest. Casually stepping over the body, it started for the Keep. It had its orders after all. Kill the King, the Dúnadan, the King's family and the Elves. Preferably in that order.

Slipping away into the shelter of the Keep, away from the fight, it felt the thrill of the hunt course through its veins. As it passed, it did note the strange wariness in the Elf's face and just as quickly dismissed it. The Elf would be dead ere long. And there was nothing that he could do to stop it now…

****

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Grabbing a spear, Buffy twirled it like a quarterstaff, "Alright," she tried, "Let's say that you let me walk away right now and in return, I don't kill you?"

They lunged as one. "Right. I guess that's a 'no' then?" As they attacked, she slammed the blunt end of the spear into one man's head and shoved the bladed end through another's chest. A solid kick broke another's sword arm even as she parried the blows of two blades.

Ducking a rock thrown at her and an attempt to grab her from behind, she yanked one Easterling out in front of her as one with a crossbow took aim and fired. His comrade jerked under the force of the bolts and Buffy stared, just a little wide-eyed, at the sight of the bolts protruding from his back, only missing her by about half an inch.

Tossing aside her human shield, she flipped herself into a somersault to let two more guys crash into each other and then rammed the spear through them. This was war. There was a bloody assassin after her friends and she was not going to let them die. She would not, - could not, - lose anyone else.

Kicking the feet out from under another man, she punched one in the face and shoved her spear through another's stomach before leaping into a roundhouse kick that took down another, ignoring the ache of bruised ribs, before hefting another man and throwing him at the last ones standing, causing them to fall down.

"Sorry. Kind of have to rejoin the battle to the death thingy going on." she said mockingly, "Be smart. Don't follow me. Or I'll leave none of you alive next time."

Grabbing one of their dark cloaks, she wrapped it around herself, careful to mask her features and started to shove her way back to the Deeping Wall. She had to get back to the Keep before the Valar knew what damage was caused!

Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Even as she got within ten feet of the wall and was about to risk climbing one of the ladders, she saw him.

The torch in the Uruk's hand caught her eye and even as she noted his trajectory, she saw the big metal spikey thingy in the culvert and her eyes widened. Breaking course, she ran in his direction, "Hey, what are you doing? You're not supposed to do that!" she bellowed but it did not even slow down.

"Move! Out of my way!" Buffy yelled, pushing through to the front and shouting up at the battlements, "Hey! Up there! Move you idiots! Get off the wall!" she thundered, and watched with some satisfaction as some of the defenders did a double take, the Elves in particular staring at her in shock.

Looking at the wall, she saw Legolas take aim… - and miss.

"GET OFF THE WALL! IT'S GOING TO BLOW UP!" None of the men were sure of what she meant but she was glowering rather ominously even from that distance and some of them decided to heed her warnings lest they find themselves the subject of her ire. But to her mind, it was too few.

Already knowing she was going to be too late, she was surprised to feel the pulse of power and then the torch sputtered out in his hand even as Legolas's next arrow pierced his skull.

Sighing in relief, she glared in consternation at the brightly glowing Narya. "You did that, didn't you?" she said, and then paused, wondering why she had not been attacked yet. Turning around, she noticed the silence that had fallen on both sides and even from this distance, she could see Legolas and Haldir's eyes bugging out as they pushed their way to the front of the battlements.

"Oh, no…" she breathed, "Nope, this is no good at all…"

A Balrog stood there, still fiery despite the rain. And there was a large empty space around it as the Uruk-hai moved the hell out of its way. Up on the Deeping Wall, Legolas and Haldir's reactions ranked under 'very composed' as the naturally superstitious Rohirrim panicked at the sight of the demon. And there weren't many who would blame them either….

Buffy just looked up at the sky, "Someone up there just hates me, don't they?" she growled, "And of course, Gandalf has to be conveniently missing. Someone shoot him if he ever gets back."

She looked around and for the first time noticed that she was standing near the culvert, with a nasty Balrog closing in with nowhere to run and no reinforcements.

"Oh crap," she swore, "Don't tell me it's my turn again…"

Alas, it looked like it would have to be her. And she still had little miss 'steal my face' to deal with too. Next time she saw Galadriel, _if _she saw Galadriel, she was going to teach her not to be so cryptic. Because a warning with a little detail would have been real nice!

Her gaze shifted between her sword, the Balrog and then the twinkling Narya. Keeping the sword in her grasp, she looked at the Ring of Fire. "Let's hope you live up to your name," she whispered softly, uncaring that she was, in essence, talking to herself.

And then she turned to face the Balrog…

****

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Swallowing down her own fear, she faced it. She felt fear was allowed. After all, last time she had run across one of these things, she had died. Again. Maybe not totally its fault. However, it pushing her off the Bridge of Khazad-dûm had contributed considerably to her last death.

But fear could also debilitate. And she had too much at stake to risk failure. And so drawing on the coldness that had plagued her since Aragorn's supposed death, she reached for the slayer and found her. The impassive mask slipped back into place, hazel eyes hardened, and the Ring of Fire burned brightly on her finger. She would not be such an easy mark this time around.

The only problem was that she had no idea how to work Narya. None whatsoever. And the Balrog was bearing down fast.

Suppressing the pain she felt from the bumps, gashes and bruises that she already had, she concentrated on trying to bring it down before it got to the wall. She was under no illusions that the Deeping Wall was built to stand up to Balrogs. She may have had no hope of winning a fair fight, so she would have to outmanoeuvre it, outsmart it. And quickly. What a pity that Morgoth hadn't made Balrogs dumb. It would have made her job so much easier. Next time she saw Saruman, he was dying a very painful death.

And then it was upon her.

Its fiery whip swung at her and she ducked under its range, but she was at a distinct disadvantage. It could hit her but if she hit it with bare hands, then she was going to be nursing severe burns. It was not a situation she was happy with.

Dodging and ducking was both painful and useless, and she could only keep it up so long. This was an enemy that could predict her moves and in her current condition, she was so not going to do a Glorfindel on it. Or an Ecthelion. No cliffs or fountains nearby anyway.

But as she dodged once more, unable to clear herself fully, and the end of the fiery whip sliced across her back, she remembered Galadriel's message. Need was the key. And it couldn't get much more needy than this, could it?

Going totally on instinct, she stopped the ducking and weaving, and held her ground. Her hand tightened on the hilt of her sword and even as she willed with all her might for something to happen, Narya unleashed itself on an unsuspecting Balrog.

Buffy jerked as the first tendrils of fire blocked the Balrog's sword of flame, realising that she could _feel_ Narya in the back of her mind. Even as fire wrapped around her own sword, she was swinging into action with more certainty than she had in a long time. This felt like handling that slayer's scythe so long ago. It felt right. Powerful. It felt glorious.

The aches and pains slid away momentarily as her focus narrowed down to eliminating the Balrog. She no longer had to fear its whip. Raising her own flaming sword, she was amazed at her own calm, and contributed it to too many things happening at once to worry about, as she engaged the startled demon in a sword fight.

Her steel sliced across the tendons of one of its knees, and it roared its pain as she danced back and out of its reach. She had told Théoden that she would defend this fortress where he would not, all the better to destroy Saruman, and she was not backing away from that promise now.

It was too tall, she could not land a mortal wound, but with every calculated blow to the bits she could reach, it stumbled all the more. And on her finger, and in her mind, Narya gathered its power for the final strike.

It lunged, too caught up in its own rage and pain to notice the danger, and Narya unleashed all that it had been holding back. The demon was thrown back by a blast of white fire that hit it, blackening the torso of the creature that now screamed and thrashed in pain. And as the fire penetrated its heart, its whip trashed once, twice and then stopped.

She had done it.

As she looked at Narya in shock and awe, catching her breath as every last bump and scratch she had ignored came back, calling for her pained attention, she failed to notice her fatal mistake.

The smouldering Balrog had smashed against the Deeping Wall, and its smoking whip lay inside the entrance to the culvert. The fitful sparks set the fuse alight even as Buffy was finding her footing on the wall, using the many ropes attached to the grappling hooks as climbing gear.

The explosion rocked the Deep.

As the bomb of Wizard's Fire was set off, the Deeping Wall came apart in a shower of rubble, debris and falling bodies. A huge portion of the wall was blown apart and stone surrounding the damaged area crumbled and fell, crushing any who happened to be near it. Walls, defences and defenders tumbled to the ground to the sound of countless screams.

It was devastation.

And even as the defenders reeled and died, their strongest defence and only hope gone, the Uruk-hai were already streaming past them through the huge gap into the fortress. And no matter how many died in the attempt, more always seemed to take their places.

As for Buffy, her luck got no better. She had been more than halfway up when the explosion rocked the fortress.

Her last thought as she flew through the air was, 'oh crap.'

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

__

"Beware your surroundings, you can never be too cautious, for even the loveliest roses can kill."

- unknown

Just as the Deeping Wall blew up, scattering men, Elves, orcs and rubble everywhere, it found its mark.

Théoden grimaced when he saw it, "What do you want now?" he ground out, "Have you not seen the disaster outside? Or do you run?"

It made no reply. Crossing over to the king who was now looking at it strangely, it looked up. Théoden's face blanched as he looked at its pitch black eyes, "Buffy?" he whispered.

Again, it said nothing, just smiled sickeningly and drew its blade. Realising that he was on his own in the room, Gamling having run off to get a report on the damage, and with no guards nearby, he pulled out his sword.

It would not be enough.

It disarmed him easily, before he even had a chance to swing his blade and before he could do ought else, it moved with incredible speed and buried the dagger in his side. Théoden cried out in pain and it twisted the serrated blade in his flesh before brutally yanking it out. The king fell to his knees but it made no move to finish the job.

The blow was mortal. They both knew it. And its master preferred it when there was a witness to an assassination. It showed what came from crossing him. Sheathing the blade, it delivered one final kick to the fallen king's midsection ere leaving.

As it left, Théoden staggered to his feet, clutching the wound. It looked like he would be joining his fathers before too long more passed. His heart clenched as he thought of his people, and his killer. He knew that Buffy had been more than she seemed, but he had not thought her so low as to be a servant of Saruman. He had to warn his people. He had to do what he could to save them while he still had time. And the strength.

Ripping a swathe of fabric from a nearby banner, he wrapped it around the wound, stemming the flow of blood for now. And then he threw his cloak over him, an act that would go unmarked in the foul weather, to hide the blood.

He wished that Théodred were here, and Éomer. But one was dead and the other gone from him. And what remained of the House of Eorl was here; - a dying man, and a brash Shieldmaiden. May the gods have mercy on them.

He knew in his heart that for too long had he been a bad King, a dotard and thanks to the treachery of Gríma Wormtongue and Saruman, an enemy to the well-being of his people. It was time to redeem himself now. And put aside old grievances.

He would pass control over to Aragorn, and hope with every fibre of his being that the man could do what he could not and save the people of Rohan.

He owed them that.

****

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Aragorn staggered up, pushing bits of rubble off him and wondered at his narrow escape.

Minutes before the wall gave way from beneath them, Haldir and Legolas seemed to have spotted something that had them blanching. When Aragorn had looked to see what the cries were about, he had seen the Balrog, something he had dearly hoped to never see again. But then Legolas had given the signal to pull back; both the Prince and the Marchwarden had directed him to calm down the panicking Rohirrim rather than trying to figure out a way to get out of this mess. How Aragorn had wished for Gandalf then!

And mere moments ere the wall had fallen; Legolas had called him over urgently, seeming to want to show him something. If he had not responded to the Elf's call and headed for one of the side turrets, Aragorn would have been caught up in the massive explosion that had killed so many. Apparently, some sort of providence had saved him.

Looking around and digging up his sword, he noticed that the Elves kept behind the wall for reinforcements were engaging the hordes of Uruk-hai and Dunlendings swarming the fortress, and any and all Rohirrim not providing arrow volleys were scrambling down to help them. He had not been out long but in that time, masses of orcs and Saruman's forces had gotten through and now had to be dealt with by those that had followed the first warning and fled to the Dike.

Up on the side wall that was still standing, Haldir and Legolas were directing what remained of the Elven archers to try to stop the flow of enemies coming through. And his good friend Gimli was not ten feet off, hacking at the orcs with a Dwarven temper at being catapulted through the air.

But then Aragorn saw something that caught his attention immediately. The Uruks, in tortoise formation, shields all around them to protect them from arrow fire, were advancing on the causeway. And if they did not have a battering ram in them, then Aragorn was a Dwarf.

Running towards his friends, he shouted up at the Elves, seeing Gamling race into the keep out of the corner of his eye, "Na fennas!" he shouted, "Na fennas! Glamhoth!" Legolas's head whipped around and instantly, he directed the nearest line of archers to aim at the column of Uruks, but their shields were good and penetrating the column was no easy task. Too few fell away due to the volley. (Causeway! Orcs!)

And with that, he waded into the ever more hopeless task of trying to drive the orcs back.

****

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Buffy groaned as she cracked open her eyes. Was this beat up Buffy day or something? she wondered dismally, 'cos it sure felt like it.

Hearing the sound of many booted feet racing over stone and the cries of orcs and men drowning out the singing of bows and arrows, Buffy realised that she was still knee deep in the fight. Throwing off the rubble that had hidden her from view, she crawled out from underneath the displaced stone and as an orc tried to mow her down, threw some of it at the miserable creature.

Then she looked up and saw the gaping chasm in the wall. She shook her head in dismay, "One wall," she admonished herself softly, "Not even one wall! And you let it get blown up! Way to go Buffy." Looking at her poor sword, which looked in bad need of a repair job by this stage, she joined the orcs swarming into the fortress. After all, she still had a dark slayer to hunt down.

Her fury was enough to have her hacking her way through the Uruks until she was within what remained of the walls. She had elected not to use Narya. It went all wrong last time and besides, she would need some serious firepower to kill the thing that had stolen her face.

But her blood went chill at the sight of it getting nearer to Aragorn. She had already failed him once. She was not going to watch another man she loved be speared upon her blade. He did not notice anything different. There was no time. He was fighting for his life. And with her own standoffish, unpredictable behavuiour towards him of late, how would he notice anything with his back turned to her? In the dizzy rush of battle, it would be so easy to miss it. Too easy to miss it.

Instantly, she was in motion, and she could pinpoint the exact second it saw her. Black eyes had flashed with anger, and it ran towards Aragorn. She would not make it in time.

"Aragorn!" she called, "Behind you! Watch out behind you! Demon!"

His head turned at her voice and then he swung around to face the threat and his eyes went wide. His head snapped between the two of them warily. Buffy gave him no chance to waver, "It's me, ranger boy," she said, even as he drew away from both of them, "Use the bond. You'll know!"

He did just that and his head swivelled in her direction as he moved towards her. She sighed in premature relief. "Get out of the way. I'll take care of monster-me." she said briskly.

"You have a plan?" Aragorn asked, still staring at her double.

"I am the plan." she replied coldly, "Isn't that right, bitch? _Nobody _messes with my boyfriend! And just look what you did to my clothes!"

****

xxxx

As she advanced on the livid looking shape-shifter, intent on spilling blood and ending the threat, Théoden's eyes were boggling from the windows of the Keep. "It seems I may have misjudged her after all," he murmured.

"My lord?" Gamling asked in concern.

Théoden waved him away, "You are to follow Lord Aragorn's orders. He commands this battle now. I shall merely try to hold the gates. Is that understood?"

"But Your Majesty…" the man protested.

Théoden cut him off, "Is that understood?"

"Yes, sire." Gamling answered, and they then resumed their fight to keep the orcs out.

****

xxxx

As Buffy advanced, she saw the first flicker of fear in her double's eyes. It seemed to know that this time, she meant business.

It snarled at her, but she did not slow down. Even as Aragorn watched in disbelief, taking down any Uruk-hai stupid enough to come near them, Gimli was having a nice long stare at them too, before shouting up to 'squirrel boy' and 'pointy-ears', also known as Legolas and Haldir, to have a look too.

Their blades met in a clash of sparks and the ring of steel on steel, and this time, Buffy was going for the kill. There was none of her previous hesitation, the lingering remnant of the fire that had rolled through her for the Balrog increasing her strength. And even as they fought one another, both playing dirty at every chance they got, Buffy held Narya ready to cast the deciding blow.

But again, they were so evenly matched that it took a while before it realised that it was slowly losing. Even if it escaped the slayer's grasp now, it had been revealed for an impostor. Flipping over Buffy's blade, it tried to go for the jugular and the slayer barely blocked the unexpected move, wobbling slightly as her balance was thrown off.

That was all the opening it needed.

It morphed into an ordinary Rohirrim soldier, nearly indistinguishable from the real wet, muddy and wounded Rohirrim that still fought; one of the countless it had killed that night, and made to run.

Even as Buffy wheeled around, she knew she would not reach it in time. And so, going by instinct, she hefted a large pike, cast aside by some fallen soldier and threw it as hard as she could. The wood and steel impacted against the creature and ripped right through its chest. And even as Buffy watched the weapon skewer it, Narya set it alight.

It died in flames, even as Buffy stood guard to make sure that it didn't come back to haunt her. Until it was ash. The super hot flame of Narya crumbling its very bones. "For one to live another must die…" she murmured.

And as she caught her breath, standing still in the middle of a raging battlefield, Aragorn put an arm around her and though she cursed her own weakness; for once, she leaned on somebody else.

****

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But even as Buffy took her first real step towards Aragorn, by allowing herself to lean on him when she was feeling weak, Gimli was having problems of his own.

As the orcs had avoided the two duelling Buffys like the plague, they were slamming into the defences that the remaining Elves held and the lone Dwarf was helping them to bear the brunt of the assault.

But then the call came, Théoden roaring out through a window, "Aragorn! Fall back to the Keep! Get your men out of there!"

The ranger nodded, and he and the slayer burst into action, "Na Barad! Na Barad! Haldir, na Barad!" the ranger roared. The Marchwarden nodded and Legolas jumped down with a few Elves to clear a way to the keep. (To the Keep! To the Keep! Haldir, to the Keep!)

But Haldir was one of the last to make a run for it, and there were scarce few allies around him when it happened. Only Gimli saw his need.

Even as the Elf whirled around atop the remnant of the wall, slashing at his enemies with his sword and knife, an Uruk came up behind him and caught him unawares. "Hey! Pointy-ears!" Gimli bellowed in warning, "Behind you!"

The call saved Haldir's life, the blade slashed past his cheek and bit into his arm instead of his head but the Elf still went down, tumbling off the wall and landing harshly, where another orc lunged to finish him off.

Even as the Elf tried to stagger up, clutching his wounded arm, and failed to even raise himself enough to sit up, Gimli was there. Swinging his axe, he swiftly decapitated, hacked and killed the orcs swarming around the downed Elf.

Then when he had a second to catch his breath, he looked at the Elf in perplexity. Seeing that the Elf couldn't get up and that there was no one around to help, Gimli muttered a soft 'sorry' to him and then swiftly knocked him out. Satisfied that the Elf would not now feel like he was being lugged about like a sack of potatoes, Gimli grabbed his uninjured arm and started dragging him back to the Keep.

Even as he cut down anything that came near him, he somehow managed to drag Haldir into the waiting arms of his comrades, who gasped in horror at the state of the Marchwarden.

Aragorn dropped down beside him. "What happened?" he asked as he surveyed the wounded Elf.

"Orcs got him." Gimli replied, "And I had to drag the big squirrel all the way here."

But as Aragorn worked to stem the bleeding, he felt sad for the downed Elf. Even from his limited examination, he could tell that the arm was going to be permanently injured. If he ever regained full use of it, he would be surprised. And as he instructed one of the Elves to get Haldir to the healers, with sharp instructions not to jostle his severely bruised torso and ribs, Aragorn was forced to forego being any more help to a friend to jump back into the fight, with the stout Dwarf at his side.

****

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"They have retreated to the Keep," Éowyn said, watching the children flinch as the noises of bombardment and the cries of the fighters grew louder. "You know what this means. They have got past the Deeping Wall. It will be not be long now ere they break in."

Even as she finished saying the words they all dreaded, the first bang was heard on the hidden door to the caves. The adults tried to muffle the children's cries of fear, but it was no use. The orcs knew they were there. Gríma had informed Saruman well of the defences. "They are breaking in!" one woman cried in dismay.

"They are past the door!" wailed another.

Éowyn rose smoothly to her feet and drew her sword, "Halina, Aldor, you know what to do. Take the children out through the passages. And if all else fails, get them to Dunharrow. We will try to buy you time."

"Aye, my lady," they chorused and started to herd the children, each clutching food and blankets, down the narrow passageway. Those too old or unable to fight, due to pregnancy, injury or illness followed them.

As they left, all those who remained to fight, turned to Éowyn.

"Rohan is our land, just as much as it is for those who have fought and died for it already." the Shieldmaiden began, "They are losing. We know this. You have the choice now. You can follow your children and what family you have that have already escaped down the passageway or you can join the fight. No shame shall lie upon you for turning back."

Another bang, louder than the first, and causing dust to shake down upon them from the ceiling, cut her off. She resumed, trying to remain calm. Was this not what she had wanted? A chance to fight? But she could feel no joy in the opportunity when she looked at the women who looked back at her, frightened but determined. "Who is with me?"

The bangs came again, each one shaking the door, and the women looked at it in dismay. "My lady," one said, "If we go out there like this, we shall die. Have you no plan?"

"I know not what awaits us out there. But half of you must go down the passageway, to safeguard those that cannot guard themselves. I expect none of you to follow me. Kill the orcs that come in here, and you safeguard Rohan's future. Not this fortress, but Rohan's children. We have no time, get into place!"

Even as she barked out the order, the orcs were forcing their way through. Their blades were curved and dirty, their lust for the kill evident to see but to the credit of most of them, the women who had never before seen battle, especially not in closed quarters, did not flinch away from their task.

Most of them knew how to shoot. Those from the Westfold needed to be able to kill the wolves that might plague their herd in the winter, if food was scarce elsewhere. The first volley of arrows, well placed, knocking the first line of orcs down. From the corner of her eye, she could see the women chosen to guard the passageway, half-emptying their quivers and then dodging down the passageway to guard the children.

Swinging her own blade, she led the charge. The orcs were strong, but they were nimble. And Éowyn had instructed them to seek to inflict an incapacitating wound. She deliberately ignored the women that fell to the orcs' blades or got injured. She had to drive them out, only then could she worry.

They were lucky in some ways. In that not many of the orcs had broken off to find them. Only fifty or so. Compared to the numbers she knew must be swarming the keep, it was a small group.

"Mama!" came a frightened cry as a little girl tore back up the passageway, having broken away from her minders. "Mama!" she screamed as she saw her startled mother take a blow to her shoulder.

"Freda!" the woman yelled, "Go! Get out of here! Freda! Leave!"

But the little girl heard nothing and the orcs ran her down even as her mother screamed in rage and pain. Éowyn thought she would hear that scream for the rest of her life.

The cold sting of a blade sliced through her own arm and her eyes flashed in renewed anger, as she ducked and parried, and then drove her blade home. And though it seemed an age that she was doing the same task, 'twas only a few minutes before the last of the orcs retreated under heavy fire.

But she knew they would only come back with more.

As some of the women used anything they could find to bar the entrance, and more helped those injured to move down the passageway, two women forcibly dragging Freda's mother away from the little girl's body, Éowyn slipped out.

She was a Lady of Rohan. A Shieldmaiden. She would lure the orcs away. If they saw one woman fighting out from the caves, they would assume all were out and running. She would buy them time.

It was her duty.

****

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But try as they might, they were eventually forced back to the keep, despite their best efforts.

And forced to watch as banners of the White Hand flew from the top of the battlements. And so, in the hall, they gathered.

Théoden felt dizzy from the blood loss, but thanked the gods that no one had marked it as anything more than exhaustion. "This is the end," he said in disgust, "The fortress is taken. It is over."

Aragorn whirled to glare at him, even as the remaining Elves and Men moved to barricade the door. "Théoden King," he said sharply, "You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it! They still defend it! They have died defending it! You cannot give up now!"

"What would you have me do?" Théoden said wearily, "Orcs swarm the keep. The Deeping Wall is in pieces. Saruman's banner flies from my own keep! What can I do? How can I stop this? I give you the charge to do what you will, son of Arathorn, but I know of nothing."

Aragorn, seeing the exhaustion, softened his voice some, "Is there no other way for the women and children to get out of the caves? Is there no other way?"

There was silence from the Rohirrim, until Gamling spoke up and said what none wanted to say, "There is one passage. It leads into the mountains. But they will not get far. The Uruk-hai are too many."

"They are not," a cool voice broke in, causing heads to whip in her direction. Éowyn, bloodied and dirty, but alive, entered the room, "The orcs broke into the caves some time ago. We held them off and drove them away. Now, the children are hopefully halfway to Dunharrow, and the women that guard them all have blades and bows. You need not worry about their safety."

Buffy smiled at her, "Guess you really took that advice to heart, huh?"

Éowyn smiled back, weary but yet triumphant, "Today, the women of the Mark proved that they have as much valour as the men," she said, looking at her shocked uncle, "Are we to give up now? When so many have been defeated already?"

"Éowyn…" Théoden said, almost speechless, but then he laughed quietly, causing his niece to look at him strangely, "If you had been born a man, daughter of Éomund, what a king you would have made! Your foes would flee before you. But instead, you have proved that you are a queen at heart. You did good work in saving them; for I have no doubt that it was you who instigated them to fight. It will not be forgotten in the history of the Mark."

Éowyn stared at him, and his words of approval. Words that no man had said to her until this day. Buffy crossed to her and clapped her on the shoulder, "Welcome to the club, Éowyn," she said, "Now let's just hope you survive your initiation. Wouldn't want this to be your first and last battle, would we?"

"Okay, we've established the impossible," Buffy said, "We've gotten rid of some nasty things today. Are we going to let a bunch of miserable orcs stand in our way? Doesn't anybody have any ideas?"

Aragorn paused. Maybe it was time to take a leap of faith. What had they to lose? '_Look to my coming at first light on the fifth day! At dawn, look to the East…_' Gandalf had said. Dare he trust him now? But Gandalf had not let them down before. Maybe it was time to just trust him….

Turning to Théoden, he said unexpectedly, "Ride out with me." he implored, "Ride out and meet them. One last charge to go down in song."

Beside Legolas, Gimli snorted, "Give me one good reason," he huffed.

Buffy had caught on to what Aragorn was thinking, and while she did not think it was a great idea. It was an idea and that was something. "It'll be extremely dangerous." she said teasingly.

Gimli smirked at her, "I'm in."

She turned to Théoden, "I'm in too. I mean, it has been a long day with the crusades. I could take a little break from the violence for some... ooh, fighting!" she said, glaring at Legolas who stuck his tongue out at her. What was it with Wood Elves and near death situations, she wondered. For crying out loud, she had even heard that sometimes, when he was in a particularly good mood, Thranduil liked to sing or hum when killing orcs. A weird family, she thought, but good in a fight.

Théoden looked up, and for the first time since the keep was invaded, some sort of determination took root in him. He was dying, he thought, let him make such an end as to be worthy of song.

"For death and glory…." he said softly.

Aragorn urged him on, "For Rohan. For your people."

Théoden stood up and his cloak fell back. At the sight of the blood, the whole room fell silent. Éowyn made to go to him but he gestured for her to stay back. "It is a mortal wound," he said softly, "If this is to truly be my last stand, then I say that we shall ride out. I name Éomer, my nephew, as my heir now before you. And until he should return, Éowyn shall rule in my place. And if Éomer does not return, then Éowyn shall be Rohan's first ruling queen. She would do the House of Eorl proud."

He waved away any attempts at healing and after a quick look; Aragorn knew that Théoden spoke true. He was too severely injured. There was nothing they could do for him. "This is my choice," Théoden said firmly, "We ride."

"You're a better man than I thought you were, Théoden king," Buffy said, with a hint of respect.

He looked back at her, and replied in the same grudging tone, "And you are a better woman than I gave you credit for, whatever you are."

Gimli looked out the window, "The sun is rising. We have survived the night at least. Must be your luck laddie."

Buffy looked out the window too, and saw the faint flickers of a light that was growing stronger, "When did morning happen?"

"After the moon went down." Legolas said with a smirk. She glared at him.

Théoden looked at Gimli, "Shall the horn of Helm Hammerhand sound in the Deep one last time, Master Dwarf?"

"It would be my honour," Gimli replied and left to blow the horn.

The horses were saddled and weapons held ready and then Théoden moved his horse to the front of the column, "Do not mourn my passing," he said, "For too long I was a blind King and served his people ill. Let me remembered as I am today, if you must." And then he held up his sword and faced the doors, "Let this be the hour when we draw swords together. Fell deeds awake…. Now for wrath! Now for ruin! And a red dawn!

"Darn tootin'" Buffy replied.

The horn blasted throughout the keep, penetrating every corner of the fortress and men and orcs heard it in wonder. Théoden waved his sword at the sound, ""FORTH EORLINGAS!"

And then the doors swung open, and they charged out like there was not a horde of orcs in their way.

To whatever end.

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As Théoden led the reckless charge, mowing down orcs with abandon; the full wrath of the Rohirrim lashing out at the multitude of orcs, two lone riders crested the ridge.

Firefoot danced under him as he looked at the rider beside him, "We have made it,"

Gandalf looked at the chaos below, "And with no time to spare." He glanced at Éomer, "Théoden king stands alone."

Éomer's jaw tightened, "Not alone," he said with conviction, raising his sword, "Rohirrim!" he bellowed.

The combined thousands of riders, made up of those who had travelled with Éomer when he left Edoras and the forces of Lord Erkenbrand, whom they had stumbled across during the night, moved forward, cresting the ridge and the first line alone looked formidable.

Éomer looked behind and a fell expression was upon his face, "To the king!" he bellowed, "To the king!"

The riders roared, drawing the orcs attention and then Gandalf and Éomer led the charge down the steep incline, like a wave of steel and fury.

Down below, all the fighters looked up at the roar, to see the thousands of riders charge down the slope led by a glowing white rider. "Gandalf…" Aragorn breathed.

Buffy smiled at his side, "Let's kick butt!" she said with glee as the orcs started to realise their dilemma and started to run as the first wave of riders crashed into them and joined in a battle that had just tipped in Rohan's favour.

As what remained of the fellowship attacked together, Éowyn stuck close to her wounded uncle and so it was that when an orc blade caught his mount, Snowmane's knee, causing the horse to tumble to the ground with the king, she was there to witness it. Even as riders swarmed past them, driving the orcs away, she was scrambling down from her mount, and running to her uncle.

"Uncle!" she cried, as she saw him buried under his beloved mount, but he did not respond and his eyes were blank and unseeing. Tears slipped down her cheeks even as she closed the vacant eyes and mourned the loss of her kinsman and her king. And then, rage filling her, she took up her sword and with a yell, rejoined the battle, hacking and slashing with abandon until she came upon Buffy. The slayer broke away from Elf and ranger to watch her back and they fought together until it seemed that suddenly, there were no more enemies rushing them. The orcs were fleeing the Deep.

Seeing Gandalf not twenty feet away, she went to him. Éomer was beside him and he smiled at the sight of her, "I heard I missed out on some fun."

She groaned, trust one of the Rohirrim, "Oh, yeah, fun was had. Also frolic, merriment, and near-death hi-jinks." Then she turned her attention towards Gandalf, and casually folded her arms across her chest and smirked at him, "A little on the late side aren't we?"

She gave a pointed glare at Gandalf who looked indignant, "A wizard is never late. He arrives precisely when he means to."

"And would that be after the battle is over?" she answered sweetly.

But Éowyn came over to them then, and Éomer started at the sight of her. "Éowyn!" he cried, "What are you doing here?"

"Fighting for my country," she replied, "The same as you."

Gandalf forestalled any fight Éomer might have made over his sister participating in battle, "We have much to do yet. Where is Théoden king?"

Éowyn's tear-streaked face seemed to have more significance then and she was the first to both break the news and to hail it. Closing her eyes, she said a final prayer for her fallen uncle and then she did what had to be done and curtseyed to her brother, and her voice was clear and strong, "Hail Éomer king!"

He looked at her in dawning comprehension and Buffy put a hand on her arm in sympathy.

It was over.

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A/N: Well? Opinions please! What do you guys think? Unexpected enough? Enough action for one battle? Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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Next chapter: Éomer takes up a heavy burden… A visit to Isengard…. The return to Edoras… An incident with a Palantír… And Faramir gets a chance to show his 'quality'….

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Elvish:

Dagnir - slayer

Dúnadan - Man of the West

Na fennas - causeway

Glamhoth - orcs

Na Barad - to the keep

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Dunharrow - Fortified refuge in the Ered Nimrais. It is the mountain refuge of the people of Rohan. In addition, the entrance to the Paths of the Dead is there.

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Durin's Bane - the Balrog of Moria. Killed Durin VI in 1980.

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Ecthelion - Lord of the House of the Fountain in Gondolin in the First Age. Died in defence of the city, killing the lord of Balrogs, Gothmog, a Captain of Angband. While battling him, Elf and Balrog fell into a fountain and though Ecthelion killed his enemy, the weight of his armour dragged him down and he drowned.

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Éomund of Eastfold - Chief Marshal of the Mark. Was brother-in-law to Théoden King of Rohan and father to Éomer and Éowyn.

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Gríma Wormtongue - Counsellor of King Théoden and agent of Saruman.

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Hornburg - fortress in Rohan at the entrance to Helm's Deep

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Orthanc - the great Númenórean tower in the Circle of Isengard. Home of Saruman.

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Théodred - Son of King Théoden of Rohan, slain in the First Battle of the Fords of Isen.

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«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	47. Off To See The Wizard

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Aragorn and Buffy's strained relationship ever be resolved? What will Aragorn do with the information, the secret, which he now knows? What has Arwen planned? And what will happen when the Three rise up in fury? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty when she's now the hunted? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And what path does Boromir now follow?

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Author's notes: (Asha walks out. Waves.) Bet you are all wondering what I'm planning now, huh? Does Éomer die later? How does this effect Dernhelm? Where did I get the Balrog from? Is there any more of them? What will happen at the Pelennor? And for all of you wondering whom I'm going to kill next, I have several victims lined up!

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P.S - I'm sorry for the delay on this chapter but I had Irish language orals this week and I have French orals starting Monday. So I've been swamped!

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P.P.S - Check out my new fic, 'The Drabbles Series'. It's a spin-off from this story where deleted scenes, unwritten moments etc are being posted. Any request for a particular one will be considered!

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Review responses:

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Arcrose - thanks! Sorry, Haldir stays maimed. The realities of war are what they are. And yes, I plan on messing with the Saruman angle, Miss Psychic.

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Boo - oh, I killed him off early. No questions about it.

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ChibiChibi - thanks! And welcome back! And I think that Éomer will make a good king of Rohan! About the killing of Saruman…. See for yourself who the culprit is. I don't want to give it away! Yes, the dark slayer was created from Buffy's blood from all those years ago. Sauron likes to experiment… and if I didn't plan the sequel early then you guys would have a nice long gap between the end of FK and the start of the sequel. And there's a scene with Frodo and Sam in this chapter. Good luck on your exams too!

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Clcountry - welcome back! And thanks!

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Dreamer Child - thank you! Glad you liked the action and humour mix.

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Emerald sorceress - thanks! And I hope you think Éomer's up to the job! And there's always a little light….

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FallenStar2 - hi! Thanks! Ah, the Balrog was sent by Sauron. Explained in this chapter. And I'm trying to make sure the Pelennor still has its wow factor. Trust me. And trust me on this as well, Aragorn noticed Buffy's comment. Big time. And Saruman is about to make a mistake… with fatal consequences…

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Goldenshadows - thank you! And her admission was kinda a bit of both. Stressful circumstances and all that.

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Haley - Of course, I love to surprise you! The answer to the second question is yes. And the Balrog came from Sauron.

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Kit-Kat - thank you! And I don't have a favourite kind but the thought is sweet!

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Lali-chan - thanks! And yes, a lot of people are now wondering what I have planned for Minas Tirith. Pity I'm not telling, isn't it? Ouch about the tests. Big ouch. You have my sympathy but as I have my French language oral on Monday, I have to save some for myself! And yes, Aragorn noticed. Oh boy, he noticed.

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Lisette - thanks.

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Mari - thanks! And yes, Aragorn heard her comment. And I actually am planning on writing a couple of drabbles - missing or unwritten scenes mainly.

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Noclaf - thanks! Glad you like it!

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Phoenix83ad - thanks! And I am glad to be able to have Éomer make the important decisions now. Théoden was always a little bitter after the loss of his son. And Aragorn did pick up on the comment…

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Shadow Master - thanks! And I know Buffy wielded Narya a bit clumsily but she had no idea how to work it, so… and I have my reasons for Théoden's assassination… (Cackles) And you are not the only one wondering about Éomer's future fate… and fireballs are an interesting idea but I think a rain of fire is a bit beyond Buffy's means at the moment… and while the vision had something to do with the shape-shifter, it also refers to some of Buffy's underlying problems.

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Shabopo - No Xander. No Willow. No Scoobies. And yes, Éomer is cute.

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ShawThang - thanks! Where do my ideas come from? You said it, my friend. From Hell. My muse likes to holiday there.

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Vixen519 - this chapter!

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White-Witch-Sakura - thanks! And Aragorn did hear it.

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XinnLajgin - yes.

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And major thanks to:

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Aleviel, Ali, Becky, D347hbyp45510n, General Mac, Lady Smoothie, Lindiel Eryn, Lunawolf, Selene, Sukera, The Great and Powerful Oz, Tommy14, Tsuki no Yasha, Willow Tree Pixie,

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CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN: OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD

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"Adversity is like a strong wind. It tears away from us all but the things that cannot be torn, so that we see ourselves as we really are."

– Arthur Golden

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Helms Deep, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 8.

Even as Éomer and Éowyn drew away to grieve over their lost uncle, Gandalf silently took over the organisation of the clean up of Helms Deep. The wounded had to be seen too, food and shelter had to be provided, their own dead had to be buried and the bodies of their enemies burned. The crafty wizard knew that it was not yet the time to bother the new King of Rohan with such matters ere he had a chance to realise that he now held the position.

And so it was, when the better part of two hours later, brother and sister returned, the hastily assembled team was there, consisting of what remained of the Fellowship of the Ring.

Éomer quietly thanked the wizard for his efforts and then asked him what else he needed to know. He was not such a fool as to think the threat of Saruman over.

The wizard's eyes twinkled, "Well, the huorns have left for Fangorn, and the clean-up is under way so I would say that the most pressing matter is dealing with Saruman once and for all. You must go to Isengard."

Éomer's eyes hardened, "The huorns are the trees then? I had wondered if I had imagined them. Were they your work?" he asked.

The wizard shook his head, "Nay, the deed was not mine. It is a thing beyond even the counsel of the wise. Better than my design, and better even than my hope the event has proved."

The young Horse-lord's eyes narrowed, "Then if not yours, whose is the wizardry? I do not believe that they appeared there with no intent."

"It is not wizardry, but a power far older," Gandalf replied, "A power that walked the earth ere elf sang, or hammer rang. The Ents who live in Fangorn sent their aid."

"The Ents?" Éomer repeated in disbelief, "That is the stuff of children's tales!"

"Ah, but so are Elves, and Balrogs, and wizards," he replied, shaking his staff, "But have they not been proven true?"

Éomer wisely did not reply to that, "Tell me this first though, Gandalf the Grey, ere you dispatch any more counsel, what was that creature outside the Deeping Wall. Even now, my men shy away from it. And where did it come from?"

Buffy squirmed uncomfortably at Gandalf's knowing look, "It was a Balrog," the wizard answered, "A demon of the ancient world, made of shadow and flame. Sent by Sauron from the bowels of the earth to ensure that nothing of Rohan would escape alive. Two ages have passed since a Balrog last stalked the lands of Middle Earth, forsaking their dark holes. It is worrying. However, it is dead now. No more harm shall come from this one."

"But does he have any more?" Buffy asked. "I mean, these things are not supposed to be easy to find or very numerous anymore. How on earth did he get one all the way here without anyone noticing?"

"My uncle did not have much contact with the realm of Gondor when Gríma Wormtongue was his counsellor," Éowyn said, speaking up, "If there was any news from that realm, we would not have heard it. Even if it came, Wormtongue would have seen it destroyed."

"But how did it die?" Éomer asked thoughtfully, "I have marked the fear of even the Elves when they speak of this creature. Even now, no Elf or Man will approach it, even buried under the rubble. If it is so fearsome, how did it die?"

Buffy subtly shook her head at Gandalf but the wizard cheerfully ignored her, "Your people were lucky, Éomer King," he said, "You had a Slayer at Helms Deep. And she killed it."

Éomer's eyes swivelled to the only official female warrior in the room, "Elliandre?" he said in disbelief, "You killed _that_! How is that even possible? And what is a Slayer?"

"Previous experience," Buffy said with a straight face, "And a whole lot of luck. And Slayer is just a nickname. Isn't that right, Gandalf?"

The Istar just smirked maddeningly; "Of course Dagnir." he said placatingly, "Luck was all it was."

The heads of Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli swivelled between slayer and wizard, picking up the undercurrents but not knowing their meaning. Well, except for Legolas, who had seen something rather startling when Buffy faced the Balrog.

Gandalf seemed to ignore Buffy's discomfiture though, and concentrated on guiding this new King, "You must go to Isengard, Éomer King," he said urgently, "You cannot dismiss him as a threat. And he has information we need."

"What good would visiting Saruman do us?" Éomer asked, "Has he not caused enough damage?"

"Because Saruman was allied with Sauron, and he may have information that will be useful to us," Gandalf answered, "The battle for Helms Deep is over. But the battle for Middle Earth is about to begin. Can we afford not to be ready? 'Tis no use to win here only to have Sauron's armies sweep in on you from the other side. This is a war for Middle Earth, not just a war for Rohan."

Éomer pondered his words, and was forced to agree.

Therefore, to Isengard they were to go.

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After the meeting, the weary and heart sore party had retreated into the remnants of the Hornburg, to catch what sleep that was allowed to them, and to ready themselves for the next journey. Éomer was to travel to Isengard with a small escort at the insistence of Erkenbrand and the newly arrived Marshal Elfhelm, and a grumbling Éowyn was to take the people back to Edoras with Gamling, where foodstuffs and supplies awaited them, with a stop by Dunharrow to gather the people of the Westfold that had hidden themselves in the mountain refuge.

Buffy, nearly sleepwalking from exhaustion at this point, was greatly looking forward to throwing herself in the bed and falling asleep right where she landed. And so, when a hand grabbed her elbow, nearly causing her to lose her balance, she was not in the best of moods at the interruption. And even less so when she saw that it was Aragorn.

"Go away, ranger boy," she groaned tiredly, trying to yank herself out of his grasp but failing miserably due to the shooting pain that covered most of her body. "Some of us are trying to get some sleep."

"We need to talk," he insisted, his tone and grip gentling when he saw the pale, drained face, the slightly glassy look in her normally sharp eyes, and the way she was trying not to wobble. Concerned now, he moved to support her better, "Buffy? Are you well?"

"I'm fine, Aragorn," she grouched, trying to move to go to her room but finding herself caught firmly in his grasp, "Now please go away. I am way too tired to deal with you right now."

Unfortunately for her, Aragorn had no intention of doing so. He could feel something in the back of his mind, telling him that everything was not as it seemed. And the more he listened to it, the more he tended to understand. "You are hurt," he stated.

Grumbling, she tried to kick his feet out from under him, but her side protested and she could not fully suppress the gasp of pain. That was all the confirmation he needed. Sweeping her into his arms, even as she flailed in protest, he bore her into her room, ignoring the litany of expletives and deposited her on her bed.

"Aragorn, you big jerk!" she hissed, "Can I not have a moment's peace? I do not need the damsel in distress act right now!"

He just looked at her sternly, before grabbing her pack and rummaging around until he found her healing supplies. "I did hear what you said when you faced off against the…. other you. Do not think that I did not. And I would also like an explanation as to how you ended up with the Ring of Fire, but I realise that it can wait until you are rested."

She gaped at him, the snappy retort vanishing from the tip of her tongue in her surprise. "What!" she exclaimed, "What are you on about? Ring of Fire is Elven, remember? Predates little ol' me?"

He arched an eyebrow in a credible imitation of Lord Elrond, "Bluffing will not avail you, meleth," he said as he mixed together a salve, "You said it, I heard it. Do not try to deny it now. You are only testing my already stretched patience. Now, where are you hurt?"

"I said I'm fine," she said stubbornly, dragging herself into a seated position as he approached.

He pushed her back down and pushed up her tunic, baring the dark bruising, "Oh yes, you are fine. I am sure that the bruising and the cracked ribs are only scratches," he said sarcastically, even as she tried to swat his hands away, "This reminds me of the time when Elladan tried to convince adar that he had not been mauled by a warg and then collapsed two minutes later."

Handing Buffy a vial of some dark liquid, he said, "Drink."

She looked at it distastefully, and then returned to glowering at him, "You forget that I actually know what this tastes like. So… no way."

"Drink, or I drag Gimli in here to give you a lecture. And then send a letter to Elrond and the twins." Aragorn threatened.

She glared at him, but knew when she was beaten. "You are so mean." she snapped and then downed the liquid, grimacing at the awful taste.

He rubbed the salve in as the brew dragged her under, her eyelids drooping lower and lower until exhaustion took her under. After which, he promptly located her multitude of wounds and dressed them, shaking his head over her stubbornness. She would have kept going until she dropped, he thought fondly and with no small bit of exasperation.

When he was done, he gently covered her with a blanket and then dropped a soft kiss on her brow. Last night had been a step forward, even if she did not realise it yet. She had at last admitted something. And he had been totally shocked when Gandalf had quietly told him about the Ring of Fire debacle, and he wondered at her secrecy. Did she really think he would not have guarded her and her secret as he had done Frodo?

With one last look at the small woman who had captured his heart in ways he had not imagined, he closed the door softly behind him.

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At the noon bell, they gathered in the ruined courtyard of the keep of the Hornburg. The Rohirrim looked sadly at their fallen fortress, the survivors just looked relieved and slightly nauseated as they realised how it might have gone if luck had not been with them. Éowyn had already left for Dunharrow and now Éomer, to be crowned at Meduseld, was clad in the manner of a warrior king, even if he did not look fully comfortable in the role yet.

Buffy avoided Aragorn like the plague, a practice she had lots of experience in, and spent her time surreptitiously trying to torment Gandalf for spilling the beans to Aragorn. However, the ranger knew what she was doing and was content to let her until they could be alone. He had no doubts that she would not mind entering into a screaming match for the whole of Isengard to hear.

And so, their little group set off under the noon sun, and to her sadness, nobody seemed to see the irony in Buffy humming 'we're off to see the wizard' under her breath.

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Henneth Annûn, Ithilien, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 7.

Faramir watched the two hobbits, huddled together and whispering softly amongst themselves. Found by his rangers near an Easterling and Southron raid in Ithilien, they had been brought to Henneth Annûn with him.

His watching was interrupted by Madril, his lieutenant, "My Lord," he said quietly, "News has come in from the scouts."

Faramir nodded tightly, and let Madril draw him away to a secluded corner, "What news has come?" he asked.

Madril's face was grim as he looked at the map pinned onto the wall, "None of the news is good, my lord. Scouts have reported that the wizard Saruman has attacked Rohan from his stronghold of Isengard. They say that Théoden's people have fled to Helm's Deep and they also say that Théoden's heir was slain at a battle at the Fords of Isen, and that his nephew, Éomer, has been banished from the capital and he is the only other heir."

"What are their chances?" Faramir asked, studying the map.

"Théoden King has been waning for many years, my lord," Madril answered, "So their chances are not good. They are not prepared for any warfare. But we have no aid to send them Lord Faramir; we must look to our own borders. More orcs pass through Ithilien than we can keep track of. Easterlings and Southrons are passing through the Black Gate in droves. I fear that Sauron is marshalling an army."

"It is not a fear, but a reality," Faramir said quietly, "We have suspected this for some time now. By how many have his numbers been swelled?"

"Thousands, my lord," Madril replied tensely, "And more come every day. We attack what we can but it is never enough. He must have tens of thousands behind the Morannon."

Faramir did not reply. How could he? His father denied that Sauron had yet the strength to attack them, but he did not agree with the Steward. Many of the rangers in Ithilien and Osgiliath did not agree. They saw all too well what forces the Dark Lord had at his disposal. Even halflings from the far north were suspect.

No, the gathering of forces could only mean one thing. - Sauron was going to attack. And very soon. Ere he left, Boromir had warned that the last attack on Osgiliath had seemed almost easy, something not normally associated with orc raids. As the months had worn on, Faramir had found himself wondering whether it had not been to test their defences, and fool them into a false sense of security. For the numbers passing through the Black Gate were too great for Sauron to have pulled the attack on Osgiliath, and with it lose the closest bridge to the Pelennor. The one at Cair Andros was the second nearest and that was near the coast.

Feeling Madril's expectant gaze on him, he pulled himself out of his thoughts, "Who is covering the river to the north?" he asked, "Any attack will come there first."

"We had to pull five hundred men from Osgiliath," he said, "Reinforcements were needed in the city and your Lord father ordered them elsewhere. If Osgiliath is attacked, we will not hold it, my lord."

Faramir traced his finger along the map, thoughts and plans whirling nimbly through his head, "The two towers have aligned. Barad-dûr and Orthanc both attack the world of Men." he said thoughtfully, giving voice to them as they came to him, "Saruman attacks Rohan from Isengard. What aid can Théoden send us now? Rohan is set to be destroyed and Gondor's cavalry is weak. Sauron knows this. He will attack from Mordor and so the fight will come to men on both fronts. He seeks to divide us and then conquer us separately. He will strike soon… He has to. And he has to strike hard. He has to crush us to win. And I fear that he knows now that we do not have the strength to repel him…."

"My lord? What are your orders?" Madril asked, worried at his captain's assessment. Seldom was Faramir wrong on matters such as these, and the men under his command trusted him even if his Lord father did not. They knew that such a man did not come amongst them often. Indeed, to them, Faramir seemed more like one of the Númenórean lords of old, rather than any lesser man. Such was his foresight, skill, intelligence and compassion that had earned him the respect and devotion of nearly all who served under him.

Faramir looked at him wearily, "I have none as yet." he answered, rubbing his brow, "I need time to think and plan. And to puzzle out our mysterious guests. Leave me for now and see that the men rest and the scouts and sentries are assigned."

For a long while after Madril left, he tried to think of plans of war but ever did his mind turn to the halflings lurking in the corner. At last, he went over to them and was impressed by their spunk. Especially that of the stouter one, this Samwise Gamgee.

"So you say that you are not spies," he said, "But yet you cross a land that has been abandoned by those who once lived there and through which no idle travellers now cross. Why should I believe you when you refuse to tell me your purpose and errand? I cannot allow strangers with unknown purposes cross through Gondor at will. And with a skulking creature that you both deny meeting? Why should I believe you are innocent?"

Frodo and Sam shared an uncomfortable look and then Frodo spoke up, "We are not aligned with the Dark Lord. In fact, to hinder us is to help him. We set out on an errand from Rivendell with eight companions. Lord Elrond of the valley set us on this path and we have followed it though it has not been without sorrow and toil. One of our companions we lost in the depths of Moria. Another two of the company were my kin and I know not what has happened to them. A Dwarf and an Elf there were also. And one woman, and two men, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and Boromir of Gondor."

It took all of Faramir's long experience and skill to hide his astonishment. This halfling had travelled with his brother? His slain brother? And to what end had he been involved in his death? "You knew Boromir?" he asked carefully, feeling at last that the answers to the riddle were now in front of him, "And were you his friend?"

He did not miss the way Frodo avoided his eyes, "I was, for my part." he replied uneasily, cementing Faramir's suspicions that something had happened between them. That this halfling somehow held the key to his elder brother's demise.

"I suppose then, that it would grieve you then to learn that Boromir was dead?" he asked and watched the hobbits' eyes widen in shock.

Frodo shook his head, "Dead?" he repeated in shock, "But how? When?"

Faramir wished that the surprise he saw in the halflings was not sincere for then he could take out his carefully repressed anger and grief on those who had led Boromir to his death. However, all he could sense from these two was honesty, and he was not like his father. He would not engineer the facts to suit his assumption. Whatever their faults may be, the hobbits were not murderers.

He sighed, "As one of his companions, I hoped you would tell me." he said quietly, "Have you no idea what happened? For his horn was found cloven in two, and I have seen his death in my dreams. I had hoped that you would at least be able to tell me something. For he was my brother."

Frodo's eyes widened in understanding, "Then I am doubly sorry," the hobbit said, "But I know nothing of how he died."

But before Faramir could inquire further as to the strange tone in the halfling's voice, like he had omitted something, Madril came and drew him away, leaving the haunted look in those blue eyes foremost in his mind.

****

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When Faramir returned it was with the cold knowledge of what had killed his brother and why. And when he overheard the hushed conversation between the halflings about the 'ring', he knew he was right.

As he entered the room, they got to their feet but Faramir was focused on the gold chain around Frodo's neck. Lifting it up with his blade, the One Ring dangled on the end as he had known it would be. "So this is the answer to all the riddles…" he said, "Two Hobbits carrying the Ring of Power begs disbelief. The Dark Lord would do anything for this. And yet to take it to the foothold of Mordor? And yet, here I have you in the wilds, with a host of men at my call…"

Seeing Frodo had frozen up, Sam tried to push Faramir back, "Leave him alone!" he demanded, "Don't you understand at all? Lord Elrond said we had to destroy it. That is where we are going. To Mordor. To the mountain of fire."

Faramir looked at the gardener, "Do you really think you can do it? You plan to march into Mordor, the Dark Lord's bastion, and destroy it under his very nose? This plan was why my brother died!" Please, he thought, do not let Boromir have fallen to the madness... Time spent in the library had taught him the allure of the One Ring.

But Sam did not bother to pull his punches, "Your brother died because he tried to take the Ring from Frodo! The Ring drove your brother mad! He attacked Frodo! Now, I do not know how he died, but he was alive when we last saw him so do not blame us! Whatever your brother did, he might have been drove to it, but we know nothing about it. Now let us go! Or are you going to try to take it too!"

"My father would greatly desire such a boon," Faramir said softly, looking at the innocent looking gold ring, "But I know what he would do with it. I know what ruin it causes. No, I do not desire to take the Ring from you. I do not want it for myself or for my country. But how can I let you go to Mordor when there is no hope of success? How can I let you carry the Ring of Power back to its master?"

"Because we have to try," Sam said, equally quietly, "We have to try. Lord Elrond believed in this. Gandalf the Grey believed in this. Your brother believed in this at the start. We cannot stop now. If we do not destroy it, then he will win anyway and what does it matter if he gets his hands on it. This is our only chance. Please do not take it away from us."

Faramir regarded them silently for a long moment, "You have a stout heart Samwise Gamgee," he said with respect, "And you have a terrible burden to bear Frodo Baggins. I think that at last we understand each other. And I shall not stand in your way any longer. Madril!" he called.

"Yes, my lord?" his lieutenant said, coming into the cave.

"Gather supplies for these two," Faramir said, startling the other man, "And then guide them out of here and leave them go. They shall have free passage through Ithilien."

Madril's mouth dropped open, "But my lord!" he cried, "You know the laws of our country, the laws of your father. If you let them go, your life will be forfeit."

Frodo's eyes widened again, and he looked nervously between the two men, but Faramir stood firm. He would not make the same mistake as his brother, nor would he allow himself to hinder this errand. He knew the price and he would pay it if need be. "Then it is forfeit," he said quietly but firmly, "See them well supplied and then release them."

Madril responded to the authoritive tone of his captain, though he glared at the hobbits as he did so, fearing that they would be the end of Faramir's life. "As you command, my lord."

"Farewell, Frodo, Sam," Faramir said, "And I wish you luck. The fate of much of Middle Earth rests on your shoulders now."

Even as a ranger rushed in, distracting him with bad news, - "My lord!" he cried, "Osgiliath is under attack! They call for reinforcements!" - he watched Madril lead them out.

He knew that it was highly likely that he would not see them again.

****

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The Last Homely House, Rivendell, 3019 TA, March 9.

"What do you mean Arwen is gone!" Elrond bellowed at Glorfindel, who had grudgingly lost the draw as to who would tell Elrond.

"Elrond," Glorfindel said soothingly, "Arwen broke away from her escort ere a day's travel had passed. They say she headed in the direction of the Redhorn Pass. That is all they know. But your daughter left of her own free will. What did you want them to do? Tie her up and strap her to the horse?"

"She is gone!" Elrond roared, stalking over to the window, "Gone Eru knows where! She is supposed to be safely in Círdan's hands! Or on a ship West! Not 'gone'!"

Erestor took this occasion to speak up, "She is your daughter, mellon. And Celebrían's. Did you really expect her to meekly follow orders?"

"It is not safe out there!" Elrond cried, sinking into a chair as despair overtook him, "Celebrían was harmed due to my folly, and the twins have ridden to war, and now Arwen has left for purposes unknown. Am I to lose everyone?"

Glorfindel moved closer to the grieving Peredhel, "Meldir," he said softly, "I am sure that Arwen knows what she is doing. She is a smart elleth, and a strong one. In fact, if anything should come upon her, you should feel pity for them for she will dispatch them with ease. You cannot dictate her choices, Elrond. If this was what she wanted to do, then nothing would have swayed her from her chosen course. She is very capable. Do not be afraid. If she heads for her brothers, or Lórien, then Galadriel or the twins will take care of her. You cannot allow yourself to dwell on the bad things."

Elrond did not reply and just covered his face with his hands, proud shoulders slumping, and outside the window, Erestor gaped at the storm that was rising outside. If Vilya was affected by Elrond's grief, then it was great indeed. But what if he could not control it?

"Elrond," he said urgently, "Calm yourself please, mellon. Vilya roars through the valley. Save your ire for your enemies, not your home. None of this was your fault. Please, be calm ere you lose anymore control."

Elrond looked up and seemed startled at what he beheld, his gaze drifting down to his hand, where the Ring of Air flashed brightly. Forcibly calming himself down, he watched as Vilya's wrath died away and the storm with it.

His shadowed gaze remained locked on the ring. Sauron would attack the valley. He was certain of it. And how could he hope to defend it if even Vilya was no longer reliable?

He honestly did not know.

****

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Isengard, 3019 TA, March 9.

When the party reached Isengard, they could see the smoke wafting up from it into the sky and when they actually came to the battered stone walls and wrecked iron gate, they goggled at the rather new and unusual gatekeepers on duty.

Even as Gandalf led them in, Merry staggered up from his perch, waving a bottle and bowing grandly in exaggerated obeisance, "Welcome, my Lords, my Lady, to Isengard! We would ask you to excuse the state of things, as we recently had some remodelling work done in here."

Gimli nearly knocked Legolas off Arod as he shook his fist at the two chortling hobbits, "You rascals!" he growled delightedly, "A merry hunt you have led us on, and now we find you, feasting and… and _smoking_!" the betrayed whine of the Dwarf had nearly everyone trying to hide their smirks and muffle their laughter, even Legolas who was looking at the pipeweed in disgust and wrinkling his nose.

Pippin stood up, "I will have you know that we are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts. Which I think is deserved and don't you laugh at me Miss Buffy. On a side note, I found the salted pork particularly good."

That nearly had Gimli drooling, "Salted pork?" he repeated hopefully.

Gandalf just shook his head and playfully swatted at them with his staff, "Trust a Took and a Brandybuck…" he said.

"Hey!" Merry protested, "We are on duty here, I will have you know. We are under orders, from Treebeard, who has graciously taken over the management of Isengard."

"You mean, kicked Saruman's butt." Buffy said wryly, "A pity. I had hoped to have a go at it myself. Nice work though. The holes and the smoke are a nice touch. I hope they lobbed a few big rocks at him?"

Pippin shook his head, "Sadly no," he said in mock sorrow, "But I think we nearly smoked him out for a while there."

"Good for you," Gandalf said, putting an end to the banter, "Now where is Treebeard."

Merry pointed into the vale, chewing on a slice of salted pork that Gimli was eyeing with disturbing intensity. "That way."

Entering into the wrecked and ruined Isengard, the Ent soon spotted them and came over.

"Ah, young master Gandalf. I am glad you have come. Wood and water, stock and stone, I can master. But there is a Wizard to manage here, locked in his tower. "

"Gee, doesn't look so fearsome now, does he?" Buffy said, "Any chance of him coming down so I can kick his butt? I've got a few bruises I'm not happy with and I want to return them to him.

Gandalf gave her a long suffering look, "Be careful, Buffy. Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous."

"I know that," she replied, "I'm just a little more confident than you that my mad can outwit his bad."

"I agree," Gimli said, "Let's just have his head and be done with it."

Gandalf shook his head and glanced at Éomer and Aragorn, "No, he is not to be killed. We need him alive. We need him to talk…"

"Good luck with that," Buffy said, eyeing the wizard peeking out from one of the upper windows of Orthanc, "'Cos it doesn't look like he plans on obliging you."

****

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Approaching the sleek stone tower of Orthanc, they dismounted and Gandalf banged on the doors with his staff. "Saruman!" he cried, "Come down! Saruman, come forth! Saruman!"

They were kept waiting so Buffy helpfully kicked at the door, making it rattle. "Get down here Saruman!" she yelled, "Or I'm coming in!"

At that, a window above them opened up, "What do you want?" Gríma Wormtongue hissed.

Éomer glared at him, "Well, Wormtongue." he called, "I have a matter to discuss with you concerning my uncle and sister. 'Tis gladdening that two such enemies are here, trapped and at our disposal. Go get Saruman, worm, since you threw your lot in with him. And make haste!"

Buffy glared at Aragorn as he sidled up next to her, "How much do you wanna bet that this means the trouble's about to start?"

"I do not bet against certainties," the ranger replied even as another figure, swathed in a grey cloak, came to the window. He spoke softly and Buffy felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she felt the layer of enchantment over it. Enchantment so that Saruman's voice seemed wise and reasonable, seemed pleasing and honest. "Well? Why must you disturb my rest? Will you give me no peace at all by night or day?" he said, sounding for all the world like somebody's grandfather.

"Cut the crap, Saruman," Buffy said, "And you listen here you sorry excuse for a wizard guy! You sicced a monster on me and now I have got a _very_ large bone to pick with you! Preferably with something sharp."

"Come now," Saruman said, "Are you all here with murder in your eyes? Some of you at least I know by name. Gandalf I know too well to have much hope that he seeks help or counsel here. But you, Éomer King, I am surprised. With your uncle so lately dead do you come seeking death and destruction? Why have you not come before, and as a friend? And not like now, as an enemy. Will you trust in the evil counsel given to you or will you hearken to one that has always been a most steadfast ally? Is it yet too late to save you from this folly? Despite the injuries that have been done to me, in which the men of Rohan, alas, have some part, still I would save you, and deliver you from the ruin that draws nigh inevitably, if you ride upon this road you have taken. Indeed I alone can aid you now."

Éomer stared glassy eyed for a moment, and then shook his head, even as Gimli waved his axe and shook it at the still smug wizard. "The words of this wizard stand on their heads," he growled, gripping the handle of his axe. "In the language of Orthanc help means ruin, and saving means slaying, that is plain. But we do not come here to beg. But to return the 'favour' you claim to have done for Rohan. I think a meeting with the sharp end of my axe would be beneficial."

"Peace!" said Saruman, "I do not speak to you yet, Gimli Glóin's son. Far away is your home and small concerns of yours are the troubles of this land. But it was not my design that you became embroiled in them, and I will not blame such part that you have played - a valiant one, I doubt not. But I pray you; allow me first to speak with the King of Rohan, my neighbour, and once my friend. What have you to say, Éomer King? Will you have peace with me, and all the aid that my knowledge, founded in long years, can bring like your uncle did? Shall we make our counsels together against evil day, and repair our injuries with such good will that our estates both come to fairer flower than ever before?"

Éomer was silent for a long moment, marshalling his composure against his raging temper, "I did not come all this way after a grievous victory to bandy words with an old liar with honey on his forked tongue," he said calmly but strongly, "So would the trapped wolf speak to the hounds, if he could. You claim to give us aid? When you are a dealer in treachery and murder? Remember my cousin Theódred at the Fords, and the grave of Théoden king and Háma at Helm's Deep! Or do you deny your part in it? Was it perhaps the fault of an army of another wizard named Saruman? Or is the White Hand no longer your sigil? Do not seek to fool me with lies and honey, cretin. I feel nothing but disgust and hate for you."

"If we speak of poisoned tongues, what shall we say of yours, young serpent?" Saruman snarled, his own hold on his temper slipping, "Ever have you poured poison in your uncle's ear, telling lies and falsehoods about me and I have held my tongue against your bile. But come, Éomer, Éomund's son! To every man his part. Valour in arms is yours, and you win high honour thereby. But you are newly a king, and only through a chance of birth. Meddle not in politics too complex for you to understand! A king must choose his friends with care. The friendship of Saruman and the power of Orthanc cannot be lightly thrown aside, whatever grievances, real or fancied, may lie behind. You have won a battle but not a war - and that with help on which you cannot count on again. You may find the Shadow of the Wood at your own door next; it is wayward and senseless, and has no love for Men."

Éomer's hand slipped to the pommel of his sword as he listened to the words, the mockery underneath the enchantment clear to the young Lord of the Mark, "Will you not listen to your betters and make peace with me? For you do not have the wits to sustain the land of Rohan!"

"We will have peace," Éomer said strongly, seeing through the lies as he always had. "We will have peace, when you and all your works have perished - and the works of your dark master to whom you would deliver us. What will you say of your torches in the Westfold and the children that lie dead there? And they hewed Háma's body before the gates of the Hornburg, after he was dead. We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the Westfold and the children that lie dead there. We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the gates of the Hornburg, are avenged. When you hang from a gibbet from your window for the sport of your own crows, I will have peace with you and Orthanc. Your voice has lost its charm, snake."

Instantly, Saruman's face twisted into an ugly sneer and a cold rage was visible there, "Gibbets and crows!" he hissed at Éomer, "Fool! What is the House of Eorl but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek, and their brats roll on the floor amongst the dogs? Too long have they escaped the gibbets themselves! But the noose comes, slow in the drawing, tight and hard in the end. Hang if you will! And what do you want, Gandalf Greyhame? Let me guess... The Key of Orthanc or perhaps the Keys of Barad-dûr itself, along with the crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the Five Wizards!"

"I am no longer what Gandalf the Grey, whom you betrayed." Gandalf said levelly, "I am Gandalf the White, who has returned from death. You have no colour now, and I cast you from the order and from the Council."

"And about time too." Buffy taunted, "I bet that it burned when you realised that Galadriel wanted Gandalf to head the White Council, not you. Do you think that anyone ever cared about you? You're just a pathetic little man, who thinks that he and his ego can rule what he likes and has to yet to realise that he's too stupid to ever do so."

"And so you bring the witch with you, Gandalf?" Saruman snarled, "And then you accuse me of foul plots. What is this one but a spawn of Sauron? Is it not her fault that Théoden is dead?"

"The fault was never mine and always yours, Saruman," Buffy replied coldly, "Do not blame me for your doings. I'm only here to settle a debt. I believe I owe you pain. And lots of it."

"And you think that you can defeat a wizard, little girl?" Saruman said, "Do not think that I do not know what you are. A liar, a cheat and a murderer. Is not right? An assassin by trade and by choice. But you are no threat to me."

"Strange then that you seemed so intent on killing me," Buffy said, hazel eyes hard and determined, "Where you did get the woman, Saruman?"

"Met her did we? I had wondered," Saruman said with a cold laugh, "A pity she did not finish you. But she did have her uses."

"Where did she come from?" Buffy asked again.

"From Udûn." Saruman said, "From horrors you cannot imagine."

"My whole life is full of horrors." Buffy replied easily, "Try me. But I somehow think that all your information comes from Sauron, and I don't really trust Dark Lords. They tend to lie a lot. And what's he going to do when he finds out about this mess, eh, Saruman? You're dead already and you know it. You can't run, the Nazgûl would only hunt you down. You don't have many options left and you have to know it. So mock me all you want. But you're living on borrowed time."

Saruman watched the cold fire in her eyes and then his own eyes widened as he spotted the glint of something on her hand. No! It could not be! Seeking out Gandalf, he spotted the absence of the very thing he had longed for. Gandalf had given Narya to a mortal! How could he! Not even Sauron knew of his long lust for what had been given to Gandalf, his inferior, but denied to him and now to find that it had been given to a mere slip of a mortal!

But Gandalf spoke up then, turning his attention away from her, "Your treachery has already cost many lives. Thousands more are now at risk. But you could save them, Saruman. You were deep in the Enemy's counsel. Tell us what you know. Redeem yourself."

Saruman scoffed at him, "So you have come here for information. How trite. But I have some for you," he said holding out a palantír, and images swirled around in the bright glass. "Something festers in the heart of Middle Earth. Something that you have failed to see. But the Great Eye has seen it. Even now, he presses his advantage while you flounder. His attack will come soon. He has been ready for many a year and now you fall all over yourselves trying to stop the inevitable. You are all going to die. But you know this, do you not, Gandalf? And so you brought a witch that will see the dungeons of Barad-dûr closer than she ever wished…. An Elf Prince who strays far from home? What armies have been set against your father in his Wood, elfling? Your home will not last the month. And you also have a rabid pack of barnyard men… You cannot think that this ranger, will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor. This exile… crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king. One who ran away from his duties once before…. Exile, hearken to me, Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him… those he professes to love. Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the halfling… Before you sent him to his doom? The path that you have set him on can only lead to death. You knew it then and you know it now."

His words set all their tempers on edge, and Gimli tried to coax Legolas to shoot him but the Elf's common sense refused, but his mind played on the ominous words regarding his father.

Buffy whispered to Aragorn, "They have reached Gondor; Aragorn." she said urgently, "Denethor's palantír is the nearest one. They have to have reached Gondor. They are nearly there!"

Aragorn nodded at her words, agreeing with her assessment. Beside him, Gandalf once more tried to talk sense into the wizard, "Come down, Saruman, and your life will be spared. I promise you."

"Save your pity and your mercy. I have no use for it!" he raised his staff and even as he lifted it, Buffy could feel…. something gather strength and even as it was released, she instinctively blocked it. The fire swirled towards Gandalf but died before it could reach him.

Saruman stared at it in shock and then spun to glare at Buffy, raising his staff again, but from the corner of his eye, he saw Gandalf raise his own staff and in another window, he saw Gríma hurl the discarded palantír at his rival. "NO!" he roared at the hapless man.

Spinning away from the window, he disappeared from sight. From below, Gandalf tried again to reach him, "Saruman! You were deep in the Enemy's counsel. Tell us what you know!" Sighing, he turned away when he received no answer. "His own malice and ambition has poisoned him forever. He would rather hide in his tower than do anything to redeem himself. If he will not aid us, then a prisoner here he must remain."

In the water, Pippin saw the orange glow and curiosity caused him to pick up the round ball. Even as he tried to get a decent look at it, Gandalf was there, sweeping it out of his hands.

Gandalf moved away to talk to Treebeard then, the round ball tucked under his arm, and as the crowd moved away from the doors, no one noticed the side entrance of Orthanc open and a stealthy figure slip out.

Spotting something in the water, Buffy went down and pulled out the small brown bag, heavy with some powder inside it. Recognising it instantly, she shoved it into her pack discreetly and so failed to notice someone approach behind her.

Aragorn turned around and seeking out Buffy to question her about her hunch regarding Frodo, he spotted her peril before she did. "Buffy!" he yelled, "Behind you!"

Instantly, Buffy pivoted, and barely missed the blade that had been set to plunge into her back. Saruman lunged at her, staff swinging as he dropped the knife, "The Ring is mine!" he hissed.

Even as she dodged his first blow, a blast of power knocked her off her feet and sent her flying and as the wizard advanced on the dazed slayer, a glowing sword sliced his staff in two. Andúril to the rescue again... Even as the wizard made to finish the job, roaring in a combination of madness and rage that a lust for power had generated, Aragorn neatly sliced off his head, dispelling the threat once and for all.

Buffy got up from the water, shaken and staring at the dead wizard, the water around him colouring a vibrant red. "Guess we won't have to worry about him anymore," she said shakily, "Thank you." she said to Aragorn.

The ranger just glared at the fallen wizard and thanked the Valar that he had been in time as he helped Buffy up.

Gandalf came over to them, and his glance encompassed the Ring on Buffy's finger and the dead body in the water. "And so it ends," he said, "He had potential to do good but his own ambition would not let him. And so his time in Middle Earth ends."

"And good riddance," added Gimli.

"Come," Gandalf said, "We have not the time for this. The Enemy moves against us. We need to know where he will strike…"

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Dol Baran, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 9, - evening.

That night, they camped at Dol Baran, sombre with the preparations for war. Éomer knew what Gandalf would ask of him and so had retreated to his bedroll ere the wily wizard could corner him, Elfhelm preventing anyone from disturbing his liege.

Buffy and Aragorn sat in silence, the air heavy between them with the tension of a talk to come, a decision to be made and the relief of a disaster averted.

But when Buffy suddenly stiffened, Aragorn took notice. "What is it?" he asked.

"Trouble." she said, looking upwards. Gandalf followed her lead and soon all could see the dark winged shape growing closer and then suddenly came a shriek that pierced the hearts of all present and only experience and determination could keep some of them on their feet, most falling to the ground in fear.

Across the camp, Gandalf's face paled, and he whirled around even as Éomer came tumbling out of his tent, still clad in his armour and with sword raised.

The Nazgûl wheeled overhead, and both it and its beast's shrieks split the silence of the night. It was a warning, and a promise.

Even as it took off, heading back towards Gondor, Gandalf was in action, urging the camp to pack up and move off, that they must leave. "Nazgûl!" he cried in dismay, even as Éomer demanded to know what by Eorl that creature had been, "The messenger of Mordor!" Éomer's face paled too at the wizard's words. He too had heard the many tales of the Nine, the Black Riders, the dreaded Ringwraiths…

Gandalf jumped on Shadowfax, pulling Merry up in front of him as they made ready, "The storm is coming!" he shouted, "The Nazgûl have crossed the river! Ride, ride! Wait not for the dawn! Let not the swift wait for the slow! Ride!"

War was upon them all.

They knew what it meant…

Sauron was heading for Gondor….

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A/N: Well? What do you guys think? Was it a fitting end for a scoundrel? Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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Next chapter: The return to Edoras…. A funeral and a feast… Some talk…. A hard choice for Buffy… And a disaster for a hobbit….

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Elvish:

Dagnir - slayer

Meleth - love

Adar - father

Henneth Annûn - the Window on the West

Mellon - friend

Peredhel - Half-Elven

meldir - friend

Elleth - Elf-maid

Andúril - Flame of the West

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Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

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Círdan - also called 'the Shipwright'. Lord of the Grey Havens. The only Elf with a beard.

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Dunharrow - Fortified refuge in the Ered Nimrais. It is the mountain refuge of the people of Rohan. And the entrance to the Paths of the Dead is there.

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Gríma Wormtongue - Counsellor of King Théoden and agent of Saruman.

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Henneth Annûn - 'Window of the Sunset'. name of a cave behind a waterfall in Ithilien.

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Hornburg - fortress in Rohan at the entrance to Helm's Deep

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.

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Morannon - The Black Gate of Mordor.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Mundburg - 'Guardian Fortress'. name in Rohan of Minas Tirith.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Orthanc - the great Númenórean tower in the Circle of Isengard. Home of Saruman.

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Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

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Palantír - one of the seven seeing stones that were scattered throughout Gondor and Arnor during the reign of Elendil. For the last few centuries, they have been considered unsafe to use as it is believed that one of them is in the possession of Sauron.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
(¸.·'´(¸.·'´ '·.¸)' ·.¸)  
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	48. Lie To Me

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Aragorn and Buffy's strained relationship ever be resolved? What will Aragorn do with the information, the secret that he now knows? What has Arwen planned? And what will happen when the Three rise up in fury? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty when she's now the hunted? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And what path does Boromir now follow?

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Author's notes: Hi, sorry for the slight delay, but I really am swamped. I will try to update regularly but I am afraid that I might not be able to hold to it. My exams start in six weeks and the revision and homework workload is getting heavier by the day. I will try to update once a week but if I miss the deadline, I will try to get the chapter up as soon as I can.

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Review responses:

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AidanPryde - welcome and thanks! Thanks for all your feedback!

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Arcrose - not yet forever. And if I told you Éowyn's fate, where would the fun be in watching you wonder? And don't worry, the drabbles take a back seat to FK. I tend to write them when the scene I would really like to write doesn't fit in with my story. And they have to convince Gríma to come down before they can do anything to him. Highly unlikely to happen. And you find out where Buffy is going in this chapter! And Faramir did know that his charge was suicidal, but his father ordered him to do it.

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Boo - thanks! Saruman is after any ring. But the One ring most of all. He was jealous of Gandalf for millennia because he felt that it should have been him who had the Ring of Fire, so when he saw that a mere mortal had it…. Greed is one of the seven deadly sins you know…

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BuffyandDracoLover - hopefully, never.

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ChibiChibi - thanks! Buffy and Aragorn's talk is this chapter. Éomer…. I am leaving you guys guessing.

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D347hbyp45510n - You will have to wait and see…

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Hermoine21 - welcome and thanks! Buffy is going to have to make a choice, yes. And as for the rest, that will be sorted out at the end of this fic.

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Lady Meridia - this chapter!

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Lali-chan - thank you! Buffy/Aragorn scene in this chapter! Minas Tirith is going - well, not exactly according to Tolkien. The bad guys are going to get badder. Welcome to the Asha's Evil Muse Horrific Plan For the Pelennor…. Beware…. But no bunnies. And I have plenty planned for the battle in front of the Black Gate… Be scared….

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Light Spinner - thanks a lot!

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Lisette - I admit it. I like Faramir. And I would have called Buffy 'terrified.'

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Mari - thanks! And Gandalf NEVER stops. Never ever. And no, no other Rohirrim women will be going to the Pelennor. They have to be the last defence if the riders don't return. No, Aragorn doesn't know about Buffy's nightmare. And I thought Aragorn killing Saruman was an ironic touch. You know, the 'scruffy exile' kills Mr Superior Wizard. And Elrond's children live to give him heart attacks. He knows the Three are free but hasn't copped onto the fact that Vilya is sentient. And need is a big key. Galadriel razes Dol Guldur at the end of RotK war sequences.

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Phoenix83ad - The Dodo died slowly. I never realised so many people wanted to see Denethor get what's coming to him… it touches me, it really does….

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Talina - thanks! Ah, the powder…. Something nasty. Very nasty. And yes, my muse likes complexity.

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Tenshikoneko03 - Arwen shows up in RotK.

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Tsuki no Yasha - Fluffiness in this chapter!

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viggolover - Buffy and Aragorn get a heart to heart this chapter. And can't say anything about Denethor yet..

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XinnLajgin - talk - this chapter. Éowyn - can't say.

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And major thanks to:

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Catgirl Elf Princess, CharmingStar, Dreamer Child, Goldenshadows, Jaguarmoon, jumping-jo, Lunawolf, Selene, Sukera, The Great and Powerful Oz, The Greymalkin, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Wild320,

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CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT: LIE TO ME

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Giles: "You mean life?"  
Buffy: "Yeah. Does it get easy?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Lie to me."

"Yes, it's terribly simple. The good guys are always stalwart and true. The bad guys are easily distinguished by the pointy horns or black hats. And, uh, we always defeat them and save the day. No one ever dies, and everybody lives happily ever after."

"Liar."

Buffy and Giles, 'Lie to Me', Season 2.

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Meduseld, Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 11.

For a man thrown into the unexpected role of King, Buffy thought that Éomer handled it admirably well.

Though saddened at Théoden King's passing, the crowds that gathered in Edoras to welcome Éomer's entourage were just glad to have escaped Saruman's wrath alive and with their capital intact. And Éomer was held in high esteem by all that knew him, and also by many that did not. Though young and fiery, he was sensible and they knew that he would do what was best for Rohan.

And to his credit, the new young King did not falter under the gazes of the throngs that lined the street. He was one of a rare breed, a man who was a natural leader and seemed almost born to be king. She had seen it happen only seldom in her time in Middle Earth. And the other prominent candidate for it rode alongside her, his eyes often straying to her.

She knew that she and Aragorn were overdue a talk and she dreaded it. Throw in the undisclosed bond, Narya and the scene at Helms Deep and it was not a recipe for good things.

She only hoped that she could stand fast.

Dismounting outside the Golden Hall of Meduseld, they were greeted by Éowyn, who informed them of the celebrations made ready for them. It was not the way of the Rohirrim to mourn the dead dolefully. They preferred to celebrate their life instead of their death. Buffy found she tended to prefer their method.

Following the Shieldmaiden into the King's halls, Buffy was surprised when the woman drew her away down a shadowed corridor and kept moving until they were safely ensconced a set of rooms. Even as Buffy waited for an explanation, Éowyn fidgeted softly before finally speaking, "Buffy…" she began uncomfortably, "I have to apologise for my actions. They were shameless and I never considered the hurt I caused you. My only defence is that I did not know of your betrothal to Lord Aragorn."

Buffy blinked, not expecting Aragorn's little trick to rear its ugly little head and she mentally cursed him for it. But she knew that could not say otherwise to Éowyn. She could not let the young Shieldmaiden moon over a guy who did not return the crush.

"Éowyn," Buffy said awkwardly, "It's okay. I'm not mad or anything."

"But I transgressed most heavily against you," Éowyn said, "And against your betrothed. How can you not be angry?"

"Practice." Buffy said, "That man is so infuriating that it's a skill one acquires around him."

"Well, I have done my best to make amends for my folly," Éowyn said, ignoring Buffy's almost cringe as she went on, "Your rooms are located close to Lord Aragorn's, and I took the liberty of finding you a proper dress for tonight's festivities."

"That is very… generous of you, Éowyn," she replied, "But I really had no intention of doing anything but sleeping tonight."

"But it is all arranged. And your aid at Helms Deep was invaluable. Rohan owes you a great debt. You must attend!"

Buffy smiled wanly, and then reconsidered on the basis of not leaving Gandalf unsupervised. Who knew what else he would say? "Well, if you put it that way…" she said.

Éowyn smiled gratefully, and crossing to the chair, picked up a dress that had been placed there and pushed the fabric into Buffy's hands. "Then I shall leave you to get ready," she said, "The funeral starts in an hour and the feast after that."

The Shieldmaiden made to leave but then turned around before she reached the door, "And Buffy?" she said softly, "You were right. And I no longer begrudge you your words of caution. I understand them now. And I thank you for telling me what I had to do. I shudder to think what would have happened in the caves if we had not been armed… Thank you."

"Éowyn…." Buffy began, acutely feeling the awkwardness of the situation but the Shieldmaiden was already gone.

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Gathered at the burial mounds outside Edoras, the people of the city waited solemnly as Éowyn and Éomer went to the front. Théoden's body had placed in its final resting place, next to his son and the time was come for the eulogy.

"He was a good king," Éomer began, eyes strangely misty, and with Éowyn standing by his side, "And a good man. He did his best to safeguard Rohan and though he may have faltered, it was through no fault of his own. His son died before him, slain by the same power that threatened our land. But though he grieved, Théoden King still led his people to safety. And even when he took a mortal wound, he still led out a final charge. But he died fighting, as a warrior, and I shall respect his decision to do so and so shall he travel to the halls of his fathers. He will be deeply missed by all that knew him. Hail Théoden King!"

The crowd roared back a hail as the final layer of clay was piled upon the mound. And even as the crowd began to make its way back into the city, Éowyn and Éomer lingered for a while at the grave of their uncle.

Knowing how hard it was to lose someone who had been as a parent to you, especially unexpectedly, she felt the need to give them their privacy to mourn.

Tugging on Legolas's arm, she whispered the need for them to go and he nodded, passing along the message to Gimli and Gandalf. Beside her, Aragorn looked at her with understanding. But she did not look at him.

She could not trust herself to.

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"She's a lovely girl, but we're afraid she has a homicidal streak."

– High Society.

Clad in the russet green dress that Éowyn had found for her, meticulously embroidered with golden thread, Buffy uneasily made her way into the great hall of Meduseld. She had felt Aragorn's gaze alight upon her since she entered and knew that the time was approaching for a long overdue talk and one that she dreaded with every fibre of her being. But was also preoccupied with the strange feeling that she had gotten from Éowyn since she had come to Edoras. The Shieldmaiden was up to something and she was determined to find out what.

Éomer was to be crowned formally in the morning, she knew. Tonight was to be reserved for celebrating the survival of Rohan. As she lurked in the shadows, Éowyn went to where Éomer stood on the raised dais, a cup in her hand. As Éomer took it, everybody seated stood. The young man raised the cup, "Tonight, we remember all those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!"

The gathered crowd raised their cups in turn, and the returned 'Hail' nearly deafened the wincing slayer.

But as she circulated through the admittedly noisy room, smirking at the antics of Merry and Pippin who were entertaining the Rohirrim by dancing drunkenly on a table, she finally found Éowyn seated at a small table.

Going over to the solitary Shieldmaiden, she threw herself into the seat beside her without any warning. Looking at the surprised expression on Éowyn's face, Buffy leaned in, and foregoing subtlety, asked, "What are you up to, Éowyn?" she said, "And don't try to deny it. I know you are up to something. You might as well tell me what."

"How can I guarantee that you will not try to foil my plans?" Éowyn asked in return, a golden eyebrow arching in question.

"Because I'm not stupid?" Buffy ventured jokingly and then sobered up, "Listen, I don't want to see you get in over your head. I only want to help you. And I happen to know you're plotting. You had the exact same look as you did when you deposited that spider in your nurse's bed."

Éowyn laughed softly, "I am surprised that you remember that," she said fondly, "But I shall not tell you anything nor admit to anything unless you promise that you will not try to stop me."

Buffy mentally weighed up the pros and cons of the dilemma. Knowing Éowyn, not much was going to stop her anyway. And whatever she had up her sleeve, she would rather steer Éowyn in the right direction than have the woman going off with no help. Sighing, she agreed. "Fine, I promise not to try to stop you. Now, tell me what's up."

"I am no fool, Buffy," Éowyn said, "I know we have not seen the last of war. Saruman may be dead, but he was merely the lesser of two evils. I know that the rumours say that the Nine have crossed the river, that Sauron is to attack Gondor. Gondor's cavalry is near non-existent and what they have is weak. The Oath of Eorl will demand fulfilment. The Steward will send the Red Arrow, and call us to war. Perhaps the last war we will ever see. The fate of Rohan is tied to the fate of Gondor. Can you honestly tell me that Rohan will be spared if the Mundburg falls?"

Buffy's eyes were sad as she looked at the younger woman, "No, I can't. And I won't even try to. We both know better. You are right. Sauron will come for Rohan if he wins in Gondor. There can be no doubt about it. I wish I could lie to you and say that your losses were over but I'm afraid that they are only beginning."

"What do you know, Buffy?" Éowyn asked, seeing a flicker of dread in the slayer's expression, "Do not deny it. You know or suspect something. What is it?"

Buffy sighed and leaned forward in her seat and her voice was quiet, "What Saruman sent after you at Helms Deep is but a fraction of the armies that Sauron commands." she said dispassionately, eyes fixed on the tabletop, "I fear that his armies do not number in the tens of thousands but the hundreds of thousands. And the Ringwraiths themselves are deadly enough to scare an entire garrison of men with ease. Éowyn, Sauron sent a Balrog to Helms Deep and on the scale of importance, Helms Deep is nothing compared to Minas Tirith. If Sauron wins the Guarded City, then he overcomes the last defence in the west. If he wins there, he will sweep through Rohan and Eriador with ease because there are no other armies left to stand against him."

"But what of the Elves? Is Prince Legolas not from some mighty woodland realm?" Éowyn asked, her own voice hushed.

"Éowyn, Legolas's home has a bastion of the Dark Lord - Dol Guldur - in the middle of it. They are going to be attacked by an army and there are few who don't know it. Legolas's father, King Thranduil, will be lucky to even survive, let alone drive them back. And all of the Elven realms have waned due to Elves taking ships West. As Lord Elrond put it, they may have the power to hold him back for a while, but not enough to win. The task falls to Men."

"Then we are on our own?" Éowyn said with dawning realisation.

"That we are," Buffy said, "Now what have you got planned, Éowyn?"

The Shieldmaiden sighed, "I know my brother, Buffy. He knows the importance of holding Gondor. He will go to their aid. And he will try to leave me behind. But I am not staying. I wish to ride with the Rohirrim."

"Well, I have to hand it to you, you consistently come up with the surprises," Buffy said after a moment, "But I understand why you want to. And though if Éomer finds out, he'll kill me for it, I'll help you."

"You will?" Éowyn said in shock, having expected Buffy to try to deter her.

"I will," Buffy repeated, "Us girls got to stick together and all that. Now, if you're serious about this, here's what you have to do…."

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Even as Buffy was talking to Éowyn, another important discussion was taking place between a wizard and a king.

Pretending to watch the antics of the irrepressible duo that was Merry and Pippin, they talked quietly of war, of hopes, of trouble.

"Why did you not tell me sooner?" Aragorn asked the wizard, "And would you even have told me if she had not used it?"

"It was her secret to reveal, Aragorn," Gandalf replied enigmatically, "I fear she is mad enough with me as it stands."

"Possessing one of the Three is to be hunted," Aragorn said tightly, "I protected Frodo, did you not think I would not do the same for my heart?"

"She is a stubborn girl," Gandalf said with a wry smile, "I had not intention of letting her burn my beard. She has some very inventive threats."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed, "I remember," he said dryly, "I do not suppose that you have any brilliant plans for sorting this mess out, do you?"

"Not any that I am willing to share," Gandalf replied, "This is between you and your bereth, Aragorn." (spouse)

The ranger growled at that but then got a wicked idea as he spotted Buffy leave her place with Éowyn, "Excuse me, Gandalf," he said with a distinctively dangerous air, "I believe I have a bereth to collect."

Stepping out into the dance floor, he crept up behind Buffy and before she could react, grabbed her and yanked her onto the dance floor. "Aragorn!" she exclaimed as he put his hands around her waist, "What do you think you are doing!"

"Dancing with you," he replied, "Hardly a crime, is it?"

"Depends on whether you ask first," Buffy growled out, realising that she couldn't escape him without causing a nice scene, "I repeat - what do you think you are doing, Aragorn?"

"You cannot avoid me forever," he replied, even as they began to move to the music, Buffy following his lead reluctantly and doing her best to try to stomp on his toes. "I may have been raised by the Elves, but I do not have their patience. We need to resolve this, meleth." (love)

"Stop calling me that!" Buffy hissed, eliciting a wince from him as her foot met its target, "It was a major stroke of bad luck that's all! That does not give you the freedom to harass me!"

"We are all but wed," Aragorn said, "I know not why you try to make your heart so cold but I will find out. You can run. But I will catch you. Did I not tell you this? Why must you fight this? Happiness lies within your reach, why do you always reject it?"

"Because I don't do happiness, Aragorn." she snarled, "All I get is the opposite. You say you love me. Fine. But sometimes that just isn't enough. You are going to be a king, Aragorn. The king of Gondor for crying out loud! I am not cut out for public life, and you know it. You know what I am. You're going to be king newly on his throne, you need alliances not dissention. And you need an heir. Do you really think I could play mommy? I am a Slayer. I kill for a living. It would never work out. And I'm not about to have my heart broken watching you delude yourself with pleasant lies."

"You insult me with your words, Dagnir." Aragorn hissed back, "Do you think I care about that? What do you think I am? Some shallow fool who desires only power? I do not. I know you have been hurt in the past but you should not make me suffer for others' mistakes. I am not him. Stop confusing us. See me for me. I would not willingly give you up for anything."

Mercifully, the music ended before she could reply and she took her chance to draw away. He let her go, knowing this was not the forum for this discussion, "Later," he said sternly.

She did not reply and instead went to Gimli to take her mind off what trouble was to come. Of course, the cheerfully inebriated Dwarf did not help matters much by teasing her mercilessly at being dragged out to dance and being caught off guard. And after at least a dozen or so comments, Buffy smiled sweetly, turned to the chortling Dwarf and said, "Toss me."

Gimli choked on his ale, "What?"

"You heard me, Gimli," Buffy said, watching Legolas's eyes light up with glee, "I know of the 'tossing' incident with Aragorn. You're not as quiet as you think you are."

Gimli stared at her in horror and then his head snapped around to look at his Elven friend, who was practically bouncing in devilish excitement.

Even as Buffy stood up gracefully, Legolas pounced. "Toss me?" he said gleefully, "Did you get Aragorn to _throw_ you, Master Dwarf?"

"Now, listen here squirrel boy," Gimli spluttered in his defence, "She is lying. The lass is only joking!"

"Oh, I do not think so, Gimli," Legolas said with vindictive pleasure, "So, tell me, how far do Dwarves fly nowadays!"

It was to the sound of their increasingly loud argument that Buffy left.

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Meduseld, Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 11. - night.

Having decided to try to walk off his frustration outside, Aragorn was soon joined by Legolas, who had had the time of his life tormenting Gimli until the Dwarf stormed off.

"Twill be well, Aragorn." Legolas said, trying to soothe his friend, "These things have a tendency to work out."

"Says the Elf who has already wooed his partner," Aragorn grumbled, "And never was it easier compared to mine."

"'Tis the effects of forty years of cluelessness." Legolas replied, "Just concentrate on what it could be, Aragorn. Think of the many years you have ahead of you when this war is won."

"What good is it if Buffy runs from the very sight of me?" Aragorn said in despair, leaning over the railing.

"Past demons are hard to dispel," the prince said softly, "I think that in her heart she knows, but she is afraid. Very afraid. The only thing you can do is to keep pushing her. I do not think that anybody has done so before. If she does not kill you for it, she is yours."

"Ai, I am poor company indeed," Aragorn said wryly, "To talk of my woes for so long. Let us talk of happier things. How goes it with Arwen? Will Thranduil have a new daughter to coddle?"

Legolas smiled at the thought of Arwen, "You would be assuming that my father did not kill me for our little escapade first," he reminded the ranger.

"Do you not intend to wed her?"

"Elrond would have my head if I did not," Legolas drawled, "But she has chosen immortality. The whole of eternity is before us. There is no rush."

"But does she not have to travel with her father when he goes West?" Aragorn asked.

"I know. 'Tis why I delay," Legolas said with a sigh, "All that can be is a betrothal, if she agrees. I do not yet have the desire to go West. And I fear that my father shall need me to help rebuild the Wood."

"You think things will be that bad?"

"I think that Dol Guldur is on our doorstep with a grudge against my adar. Yes, I think it will be bad. Even now, the Shadow stirs. I fear for him, for them. I can feel it, Aragorn. Even now, the stars are veiled from me. Something stirs in the East… A sleepless malice."

"Sauron?" Aragorn demanded, looking at his Elven friend.

"I do not know," Legolas replied, his gaze locked on the horizon and then suddenly he jerked and Aragorn grabbed his arm in alarm.

"Legolas? Are you well!" he asked, shaking his friend lightly.

Silver-blue eyes locked onto his, almost unseeing, "The Eye of the Enemy is moving…." the Elf whispered, foresight taking him in front of Aragorn's shocked eyes, "He is searching…. Searching….. He is here!"

Even as Legolas came back to himself, Aragorn was shaking him, "Who is here, Legolas? Who is here!"

The Elf paled, "Sauron…."

Almost as one, the two wheeled back into the Golden Hall, hoping that they were not too late….

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At the same time that Aragorn and Legolas were talking, in the room that Merry and Pippin were sharing with Gandalf for the reason that the wizard just did not trust them not to cause all sorts of mischief.

While Merry and Gandalf had fallen asleep easily, lethargic from full bellies and full pipes, Pippin found himself in a state of insomnia. He just could not rest easy, no matter how hard he tried. Every time, he closed his eyes, his thoughts kept drifting back to the strange glass ball that he had found and that Gandalf now zealously guarded.

He lay there for the better part of an hour, before he realised that he would get no rest until his curiosity was fulfilled. Carefully peeling back the covers atop him, he padded quietly towards Gandalf, but Merry, sleeping beside his friend, woke up when Pippin nearly stepped on his arm.

"Pippin!" Merry hissed, "What you doing?"

Pippin shook his head to try to quieten Merry and did not say a word, instead going to Gandalf. The wizard slept with his eyes open, just like Legolas, and Pippin had always found it eerie. After all, how could you ever tell if they were truly asleep? He had nearly gotten the fright of his life the first time he saw an Elf do it.

Cautiously, he waved his hand in front of Gandalf's face, but the wizard did not even blink, did not react at all in fact. It seemed that he was asleep. From across the room, Merry hissed at him, not understanding what he was up to, "Pippin?"

Pippin jumped and shot a filthy glare at Merry for scaring him. Again, he held his finger up to his lips for silence, causing Merry to glare at him. Grabbing a nearby vase, Pippin started the delicate process of switching the glass ball for the vase, seeing as Gandalf was cradling it to him as if it was a baby.

As Pippin grabbed the glass ball, Merry sat up in his bedroll, "Pippin, are you mad?" he hissed, "Gandalf will kill you! Put it back!"

Pippin just unwrapped the cloth covering the ball, "I just want to look at it., Merry" he said, "Just one more time."

Merry made as if to stand up, "Put it back!" he whispered furiously, eyeing the sleeping wizard warily. "I do not want to be doing dishes until I am eighty! You do remember the last time you stole something from him, do you not?"

Pippin pointedly ignored him, and looked into the glass ball. He watched fascinated as images started to flicker across the surface, but by the time he realised the danger, it was way too late.

Even as the Eye of Sauron flared to life in the Palantír, Pippin felt his mind being ensnared by the strange force and as terror flooded through him, he found himself helpless to pull away. Merry's shouts in the background barely even registered.

'_I see you…._' an insidious voice whispered, echoing painfully in his head as the fire seared through him, '_I see you halfling…. Where is my Ring! Tell me, little fool…. Where is it?…._'

Merry staggered towards his friend as Pippin screeched and writhed on the floor in agony, "Pippin!" he shouted, "Help! Gandalf! Someone help him!"

Even as Gandalf snapped awake, Aragorn and Legolas burst into the room, with a rumpled Buffy falling in behind them a second later. Aragorn lunged for Pippin and wrenched the palantír away from him, and nearly collapsed from the force of it as it tried to inflict the same thing on him as it had done to Pippin.

But as he threw his own will into pushing Sauron away, he felt the bond between him and Buffy flare and strength that was not his flood into him. The image of the Eye faded away, to be replaced by images of Buffy, much younger in some of them. Fighting monsters…. A swirling vortex of some sort as she rammed a sword through a man that reached out to her… Her desperate attempts to save a blonde woman…. Fighting with a brunette that seemed to match her abilities…. Raging with fury, sending him flying backwards as she yelled at him in betrayal…. Running away from something…. A circlet falling lopsidedly from her head as she clutched a young boy to her…..

He felt the Palantír dropping out of his grip and falling to the floor, even as Legolas caught him as he staggered back. Buffy grabbed a blanket and tossed it over the palantír before kicking it away and dropping down beside Pippin.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf swore as he tried to reach the frozen Pippin, "Get it out of here, Buffy!"

The slayer nodded, and reached for the cloth covered orb, handling it as one would a dangerous, biting snake. "Where?" she asked.

"Your room for now. But whatever you do, do not look into it or touch it!"

"Got it." Buffy said, leaving the room, holding the palantír away from her. She sternly ignored the rush of images that seemed poised to cascade through her if she let it in.

Legolas helped Aragorn up as Gandalf bent over Pippin, who after many attempts, finally awakened, panting in fear. Wide, terrified eyes looked up at Gandalf, "He is coming…." he gasped out.

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Meduseld, Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 12.

The next morning, they all met in the hall, Éomer having been filled in about last night's events.

Gandalf held the palantír in his hands, unwilling to take the chance of leaving it out of his sight. Setting the cloth covered orb down on a table, he addressed the tense group. "Sauron did not find out about Frodo," he said, to audible sighs of relief, "There was no lie in Pippin's eyes. A fool, but an honest fool he remains. He told Sauron nothing of Frodo and the Ring. Instead, it seems that Sauron now believes it to be Pippin that has the One Ring. A bad stroke of luck for Pippin but one that we may turn to our advantage."

"He's going to hunt Pippin now, isn't he? Not Frodo." Buffy asked from her position, leaning against one of the pillars.

"Yes," Gandalf agreed, "But we have been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the palantír a glimpse of the Enemy's plan. And where before we knew nothing of what he planned, we at last know for sure what he means to do. Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. Saruman's defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing... He now knows that the Three Rings of the Elves are free, and now knows of one who possesses one. He also knows that Buffy has returned to war, instead of prowling the north. And he knows the Heir of Elendil has come forth. Men are not as weak as he supposed all these years. There is courage still… Strength enough perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He remembers the Last Alliance all too well, just as he remembers the blood of the one who denied him of the One Ring. There are few lines he hates more than the line of Elendil. He will not risk the peoples of Middle-earth uniting under one banner. He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king return to the throne of Men. If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war."

Éomer was silent, "I know of the peril that Gondor now faces, though I did not realise it was so great. My uncle would have said why should we ride to the aid of those who never came to ours, but I know better. I have spoken with Boromir of Gondor ere he left for the north, and I know that they are hard pressed to hold what borders remain to them. If Gondor falls, Rohan will not last much longer. The Rohirrim will ride to Gondor. If the beacons are lit, Rohan will answer."

"They must also be warned," Aragorn said, envisioning his promise to Boromir, "I will go to do so."

Gandalf glared at him, "No!" he said firmly, "You must not."

"They have to be warned, Gandalf," Aragorn protested. "Denethor knows nothing of this!"

The wizard held up a hand in a gesture of peace, "They will be, Aragorn." he said and then dropped his voice to a whisper, "You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. One that was foretold long ago. Follow the mountain to the river, and look to the black ships."

As Aragorn stared at him, Gandalf surveyed the small group and spoke loudly, "Understand this, things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith. And I will not be going alone." he said, looking at the hobbits, and then at Buffy. "But first, someone must take charge of the palantír. Will you Aragorn, take the Orthanc stone and guard it? It is a dangerous charge I know."

"Dangerous indeed, but not to all." Aragorn replied, "There is one who may claim it by right. For this assuredly is the palantír of Orthanc from the treasury of Elendil, set here by the Kings of Gondor. Now my hour draws near. I will take it."

The wizard bit back a smile at the kingly tone and knew that Aragorn was coming into his own, and picking up the palantír, he bowed as he presented it to the ranger. "Receive it then, Lord!" he said, "In earnest of other things that shall be given back. But if I may counsel you in the use of your own, do not use it - yet! Be wary!"

Aragorn arched an eyebrow at him, "When have I been hasty or unwary, who have waited and prepared for so many long years?" he said wryly.

"Never yet." Gandalf said cheerfully, "But do not stumble now, at the end of the road. Now, place that somewhere safe. I would not have another exposed to its malice."

As the crowd dispersed to take care of their business, Éomer to prepare for war, Aragorn to do the same if in a different way, and so on, Gandalf went to Buffy. He looked at her and she knew what he wanted, "Your path lies before you Buffy," Gandalf said, "But to step upon it will be your choice. To go with the Rohirrim and Aragorn or to help me hold the White City?"

"I do not know," she said heavily, "When do you leave?"

"At dawn." he replied. "If you are not at the stables in the morn, I will know you are not coming. Choose wisely, Dagnir."

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When Buffy trudged into her rooms, later that day, having been helping Éowyn to make certain clandestine preparations, the last person she wanted to see perched on her bed was Aragorn.

Taking off her sword, she threw it onto the chair in anger, "What are you doing here, Aragorn?" she demanded.

He was not in the least bit phased by her temper, many decades of friendship leaving him well acquainted with her mercurial temper. "It is past time we talked, Buffy," he said calmly, "You know it as well as I. We have a lot of things to discuss."

"You just want to sort things out before you travel the Paths of the Dead," Buffy stated, "And don't give me that look. I'm not stupid."

"And where does your sword travel?" Aragorn asked, unsure if he wanted her to dare the dreaded Paths of the Dead with him. She laughed lightly, "Swords?" she repeated, "Oh boy. Aragorn, what good are weapons against disembodied spirits? They have no ass to kick. A chunk of metal isn't going to do much good. And I hear they like killing people. Think of it as revenge from beyond the grave. You're going to need a little more than a sword."

"They broke their oath." Aragorn said firmly, "Their oath to Isildur, Elendil's son. And to his heir they now must answer."

"I'd be careful with them if I were you," Buffy warned, "Ghosts are nasty. They quite like to possess people actually. It's one of their more annoying traits. And oh yeah, any of them who are trapped in the world between the living and the dead, tend to hate the living big time. You do remember Moria?"

"Very well, I assure you." Aragorn said with a grimace, "But what about Narya? Why did you not tell me?"

"Because it wasn't my choice to hold it," Buffy growled tiredly, "Gandalf thought that he would fall in Moria and so asked me to mind it and carry it to Galadriel. As you know, things didn't exactly work out the way either of us expected and so I got stuck with it. I wasn't about to advertise the fact that I was a walking time bomb to anyone."

"I would have helped you."

"I didn't want your help." Buffy said, "All I wanted was for Gandalf to take it off my hands. I only used it at the Deep because I needed to. A literally life or death situation. Still doesn't mean that I want the damn thing. I mean, I might as well paint a bull's-eye on my back now."

"All the more reason you should have told me." the ranger insisted, "Saruman nearly killed you for it."

"Hence, why I didn't say anything." Buffy snapped, "Look, all I got to explain this thing was some major cryptic from Galadriel and Gandalf, which, as per usual, only has any meaning after the fact. So the last thing I want to talk about is the thing that is about to have me hunted down like an animal."

Aragorn nodded and then he crossed to Buffy and taking her arm, drew her towards the bed, until she was sitting down on it beside him. She made no protest. She knew that there was no avoiding this now. And she felt so weary of fighting herself. She would reserve that will until the morn, when she would need it anew.

"Buffy," Aragorn asked, softly and earnestly, in such a way that cut into Buffy's heart, "Why do you run? You give me paltry excuses but I know that they are not the full truth. Buffy, when I held the palantír, I saw… I saw you. The crown of the Queen of Gondor was on your brow and you clutched a child to your breast as you ran."

He heard Buffy's shaky intake of breath and knew that he had hit on something, "You saw it too." he said, more a statement than a question.

"I did," Buffy said, "Don't you see? We're only going to cause each other pain if we continue upon this course! I saw Gondor burning, Aragorn. Do you think that I could bear to be responsible for that?"

"Why do you think it is your fault? How do you even know it is true?" Aragorn demanded, taking her trembling hand in his, "Sauron has held the palantíri in his control for a long time. How can you be sure it is true?"

"Because I can't take the risk that it is not," Buffy said, voice shaking as she started but gaining strength, "How could I have that hanging over my head? Gondor needs to be strong. Not dead."

"Buffy…. Why can you not trust me?" Aragorn whispered, loosening the braid that she wore until her hair fell loose, "Why can you not trust in me to prevent it? I am not going to leave you, meleth. It would tear my own heart in two. Visions often come to be prevented, why can you not fight for the future? For us?"

"Because I've tried before," Buffy said, casting her eyes down, "It's always the same. I lose."

"Why can you not even try? Is _this_," he said, pressing her hand to his chest, over his heart, "not worth it? Buffy, if you can look me in the eye and honestly tell me that you do not love me, then I shall walk away and bother you no more. Can you do this?"

She tried. Eru knew she tried. But every time she tried to form the words, they caught in her throat. At last, she gave up. "I can't."

Gradually dawning exultation was evident in Aragorn's eyes at her admission but knowing his love, he proceeded carefully. "Then why can you not give this a chance?"

"What happens if this doesn't work out, Aragorn?" Buffy asked tiredly. "What happens if we try this and it fails?"

"Then at least we tried. We would not have to live with the spectre of regret over our heads for the rest of our lives. Please, Buffy, at least give us a chance."

She looked into intent grey eyes, and saw a need there, a need for some certainty in uncertain times. He did not want this unresolved when they went to a war where the odds were stacked against him.

Releasing her hand, he pulled the Ring of Barahir off his finger, and placed it in her palm, furling her fingers over it. She knew what it meant. He had once nearly given it to Arwen... "Aragorn…" she began awkwardly, not meeting his eyes.

He shushed her, and urged her to take the ring, although it was too big to fit on her fingers. "Please, take it... If only as a promise to return it to me."

She hesitated and then knowing that he needed this, that she needed this, she nodded and hung the ring from a chain around her neck. His answering smile was breathtaking. Stroking her hair, he asked, "Is the running over, meleth?"

She sighed and then relaxed into his touch as he drew her against his chest, "It's over," she said quietly, silently letting him know that her heart was in his keeping. She did not expect to live past the battle in Gondor. She had a good reason to believe so, but he did not need to know that yet. "Nothing's settled yet, ranger," she said softly.

"I know," he replied, "But it is a start. And more of one than we have ever had."

Turning to face him, she let him draw her into a sweet kiss and she responded eagerly. She needed this succour too. Before she rode to war. And death.

They kept it innocent, mere kisses and caresses, for Aragorn was the honourable type and nothing had been settled between them. Buffy had agreed to give them a chance, nothing more.

And then they fell asleep in each other's arms; Buffy for once feeling secure in another's hold. But long after Aragorn had fallen asleep, holding her tightly, Buffy lay staring at the ceiling, wondering why life had to be so damn hard.

Because Aragorn had a point, she would have regretted not letting him know how she felt. The only problem was, this would be their last night together. Forever. Aragorn had to go his path and she had to take hers. Even if she did not survive it.

But as her heart was currently swimming with warm, cosy, and happy feelings, and was cheerfully beating her head into submission for this night, she gave in to it and snuggled closer to Aragorn, feeling his heart beating reassuringly underneath her ear. And with a silent solemnity, she said her final goodbyes to Angel and let Aragorn in, for the hours they had left to them.

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Meduseld, Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 13 - dawn.

Gently untangling herself from Aragorn's somnolent hold, she brushed a light kiss on his brow and said goodbye for the last time. She did not think that she would see him again. "Namárië Aragorn… Namárië nín meleth," she whispered and then picking up her pack, silently left the room.

And so it was that when dawn's early light flooded through the stables and Gandalf, Merry and Pippin entered at speed, Buffy was there waiting for him.

The wizard regarded her silently for a moment, "You have chosen then?"

She took a deep breath, "I know Denethor. And his idiocy. The city is probably on the verge of collapse. Whatever legend my name has given me, I have to go. I am the only one who can go who has any blackmail material on the despicably lovely steward. I will ride to Minas Tirith. You never know, the sight of me after all these years might just be enough to give him a heart attack! Solve all our problems."

Gandalf looked at her knowingly, "And have you said your goodbyes?"

"All those that needed to be said," Buffy said, knowing what he was implying. Well, it was her choice and she had made it. It was better that Aragorn did not find out until after she was gone.

Pippin looked between them, oblivious to the undercurrents, "And how far exactly is Minas Tirith?

Gandalf gave him a long suffering look, "Three days' ride, as the Nazgûl flies, and you had better hope we do not have one of those on our tail."

"Are we all taking Shadowfax then?" Buffy asked, "Can he handle three of us?"

"He is Lord of the Mearas. Of course he can," Gandalf said snappily.

And so it was that even as Merry and Pippin said their goodbyes, Buffy mounted behind Gandalf, holding onto the wizard. Slayer and wizard politely pretended to ignore the two hobbits' words. But then Gandalf could wait no longer, "Run Shadowfax!" he called, "Show us the meaning of haste!"

Pippin called out for Merry even as Shadowfax broke into a canter, which bore them away from Edoras.

"And so we fly," Gandalf said, as Shadowfax smoothly raced across acre and acre of grassy plains, "Not from danger but into greater danger. Every stride of Shadowfax bears you nearer to the Land of Shadow. Let us hope that it is not in vain…"

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And in the courtyard outside the stables in Edoras, some scant twenty minutes after Merry lost sight of Shadowfax over the horizon, a dishevelled Aragorn careened into the area.

"Where is she?" he gasped as he surveyed the courtyard.

Merry looked at the man with sympathy, knowing what it felt like to be left behind too. "Gandalf, Pippin and Buffy have left for Minas Tirith." he said simply.

"Without telling anyone?" Aragorn said soberly.

Merry nodded and left the ranger to his privacy out of respect for him. For his part, he missed Pippin already.

And as for Aragorn, he stared at the horizon for no few minutes, trying to reconcile Buffy's actions with her words the night before.

Remember your promise, he thought desperately, and come back to me, Buffy….

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A/N: So? What do you think? Enough fluff? Enough angst? RotK starts in the next chapter so get ready! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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Next chapter: Consequences… Choices…. Meetings… Reactions…. A coup d'état…. And Gondor comes under the first wave of attack….

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Elvish:

Bereth - spouse

Meleth - love

Dagnir - slayer

Adar - father

Namárië - farewell

Nín meleth - my love

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Dunharrow - Fortified refuge in the Ered Nimrais. It is the mountain refuge of the people of Rohan. And the entrance to the Paths of the Dead is there.

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Gríma Wormtongue - Counsellor of King Théoden and agent of Saruman.

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Hornburg - fortress in Rohan at the entrance to Helm's Deep

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Mundburg - 'Guardian Fortress'. Name in Rohan of Minas Tirith.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Orthanc - the great Númenórean tower in the Circle of Isengard. Home of Saruman.

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Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

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Palantír - one of the seven seeing stones that were scattered throughout Gondor and Arnor during the reign of Elendil. For the last few centuries, they have been considered unsafe to use as it is believed that one of them is in the possession of Sauron.

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Red Arrow - the 'war-arrow' sent from Gondor to Rohan as a token of the need in Minas Tirith.

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Ring of Barahir - Heirloom of the House of Isildur.

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The guarded city - Minas Tirith. The city was once called 'Minis Anor' - 'Tower of the Sun' but it's name was changed when both Minas Ithil and Osgiliath fell.

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«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	49. The Shadow's Thrall

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Okay, it is official people; we are into the Return of the King and with it the final stretch of this tale. All that comes afterward will have to come in the sequel.

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Review responses:

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Allen Pitt - thanks! And you could hope…. And I think falling down the stairs is a little too good for him. And there will be a villain-cross from SunnyD in the sequel. You guess who.

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Arcrose - thanks! And Buffy vs. Denethor is bound to be entertaining! And Galadriel surrender the claim to 'all-knowing'? Never! And let's just say that Sauron has quite a few tricks up his sleeve… and yes, the POV is going to split from here on out.

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BG - I am always happy to convert someone!

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Boo - He was sensing Evil. Sauron is majorly evil. But he is also of royal descent so I figured he could do it too.

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ChibiChibi - nearly 50 actually. And I would imagine that Buffy could give the Corsairs a right fright, but somehow I doubt more than an army of dead, vengeful ghosts. Besides, I have a better use for her elsewhere… and yes, Boromir is on his way back. And Denethor? Reasonable?

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FallenAngelLindsay - I have actually passed responsibility for HRI onto another author. So it's up to her when she posts.

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Lady Meridia - no, Aragorn won't. He is going to be a little busy with ghosts. And twins. But when he gets to Gondor… hmmm… I'll let you guess….

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Lali-chan - thanks! And of course I can make it worse! Never underestimate me in that department! And I always wondered what Legolas would have said about the 'toss me' incident so I wrote it in… Arwen will meet Legolas. Eventually. And I think Buffy has died about three or four times now. And the twins are returning in the next chapter or two.

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Lisette - I get what you mean about the whole Angel thing. And I agree with it.

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Lunawolf - I'm hurt. You truly think that I _don't_ have something evil planned! Shame on you!

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Pamie884 - thanks! And I'm always planning something evil… be wary… be very wary…

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Redcristal - thanks! And yes, you're forgiven. And yes, Denethor should be pitied! See what happens to him in just one chapter! Cool idea about the Pelennor. I did think of that actually. Good luck on your own crossover!

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Reyavie - welcome and thanks! And yes, I like to keep you hanging.

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Selene - which he?

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Shabopo - of course he is. He's Aragorn. And Buffy's reasons to go to Gondor will be revealed in time…

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ShawThang - Don't worry. Boromir will be showing up in the next chapter or two!

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Spammer - alas, no she didn't.

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Star - thanks and welcome back!

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Talina - no, he doesn't.

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Tenshikoneko03 - on a scale of one to ten, I'd guess at least a fifteen.

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Tsuki no Yasha - thanks! And you will have to wait until they're in the same country again for any more B/A fluff.

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Wild320 - thanks!

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White-Witch-Sakura - you want them married? Aren't they pretty much already? And sadly, can't say whether ending will be happy or sad yet.

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Willow Spirit - Cool name Kit-Kat! And you're right, she wouldn't have. And sparks in Gondor? I think bonfires are more like it!

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XinnLajgin - Not literally.

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And major thanks to:

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AidanPryde, Athene Saile, Claddagh, d347hbyp45510n, ellie, Imp17, jumping-jo, Light Spinner, Little Red Rabbit, Mari, Nicole, Sukera, The Great and Powerful Oz, The Greymalkin, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows,

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CHAPTER FORTY-NINE: THE SHADOW'S THRALL

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Genius may have its limitations, but stupidity is not thus handicapped.

Elbert Hubbard

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Dol Amroth, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 12. - Night.

When Lothíriel, Princess of Dol Amroth, was roused from her bed to be informed of a strange visitor in the night, she immediately feared the worst. Her father, Prince Imrahil, and her brothers were but lately gone to ride to the aid of Minas Tirith, leaving her in and the Captain of his guard in charge of the city and its defence. Surely something had not befallen them on the road to the White City?

Hurriedly slipping into a dress, she belted a loose robe around her and not bothering to tie back her loose dark hair, she hurried to the reception room.

The servant disappeared after they reached the room, and so when Lothíriel entered, it was to see a figure swathed in a cloak of shifting colour, their back to her, gazing into the small blaze of the fire.

"Who disturbs me at this hour of the night?" Lothíriel demanded imperiously, sternly hiding her hammering heart behind years of court training. "And why did you refuse to tell the guards your name?"

"You are Princess Lothíriel, yes?" the figure asked, their voice low and melodious and it gave Lothíriel a jolt to hear it. It could not be…

"I am," she answered steadily, "But again, who asks? War darkens our doorstep, I am sure that you understand my need for clarity."

The figure laughed lightly, "I do indeed," they agreed and then they lowered their cloak to reveal a stunning vision of Elven luminosity that had not been seen in Dol Amroth since Lothíriel's own forebear had been alive. Raven dark hair fell down her back but it was the stunning beauty and the pointed ears that had Lothíriel gaping in a most un-ladylike fashion.

"I am Arwen, daughter of Elrond of Rivendell," the she-Elf said, grey eyes boring into hers, "And I come to ask for your hospitality in these dark times."

"Rivendell?" Lothíriel repeated, trying to wrap her mind around this surreal conversation, "From the north? By the stars, what are you doing here? Do you not know that war is coming?"

"'Tis why I came," Arwen replied, smiling slightly, "My ship docked here this eve but alas, he who I was fated to meet has not yet arrived. I would most humbly beg your hospitality until he does come."

"You are serious," Lothíriel stated incredulously before remembering her manners and gesturing for the Elf-maid to take a seat. "Forgive me for my rudeness, my Lady. But who is it that you are to meet?"

"You do not have to be so formal with me, Princess," Arwen said gently, "You are of Elven descent and I have mortal blood in my veins. We are not so far apart as you may think. But to answer your question, I come to await a cousin of yours."

She had only one male cousin left living, so she swiftly wondered what this Elven lady wanted with her cousin. "Faramir? But he is much in Ithilien and duty would not allow him to meet you here! Sauron is said to be marching on Minas Tirith. He is needed there."

Arwen smiled conspiratorially, but her eyes were deadly serious, "I come here to help in the war whatever way I can. And what I am about to impart to you should no go further than here, - I await not Faramir, but his brother, Boromir, who is making his way to this city."

Not for the first time that night, Lothíriel of Dol Amroth was speechless.

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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 14.

After two days hard riding, having been forced to endure Gandalf's not so tuneful rendition of Bilbo's travelling song until Buffy put a dent in the wizard's hat, both slayer and hobbit were immensely relieved to finally see the seven walls of the White City over the horizon. Buffy gazed on them with a wary familiarity, remembering her first exposure to the large cities of Men and for Pippin's part; he was just struck with the sheer size and grandeur of the place, even from the distance.

"Is that it?" he whispered in wonder, eyes fixed on the city.

Gandalf looked at him fondly, "Aye, it is. Minas Tirith. City of Kings, is that not right, Buffy?"

"You are the only one here who actually saw a king on his throne here, so I'll leave the history bit to you," Buffy said in annoyance, and wondered what the wizard's point was. If his jabs got any less subtle, soon Pippin would be very well acquainted with the whole saga. Something that she did not want.

She looked at the glistening walls and then turned to Pippin conspiratorially, "Actually, it is good to be back in the White City. The locals all speak Westron, and I know who to beat up for information. Yep, definitely good to be back."

She swore that if Gandalf could have glared at her from his position in front, he would have.

****

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"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."

Edmund Burke

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The Citadel, Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 14.

As they wound their way up through the seven levels of the city, Buffy kept her hood up to forestall any commotion. She had no illusions as to what Denethor was likely to try to do to her. After all, the last time she had threatened him with bodily harm, his father had been Steward and Ecthelion had happened to like Buffy. But she had no doubts that if he saw her once again, revenge would be an option he would exercise.

Drawing rein in the grand Citadel, where the fountain bubbled merrily near to a withered white tree. As soon as Pippin saw it, his eyes went wide, "It's the tree. Gandalf!" he exclaimed.

Gandalf nodded patiently, "Yes, the White Tree of Gondor. The Tree of the King…. And his family," as he said that, he looked to Buffy and she watched him suspiciously, seeing the strange light in that gaze, "But no king dwells here yet, only his steward. Lord Denethor is not the king. He is a steward only. Forever but a caretaker of the throne."

"And boy, doesn't he hate being reminded of that little fact," Buffy grumbled under her breath causing Pippin to look at her curiously.

Gandalf paused outside the steps and looked at his two companions, "Buffy, I believe that Denethor would not welcome you into his halls?"

She scoffed at that understatement, "More like try to skewer me, you mean. Why?"

"Because I think it would be best if you slipped in unnoticed. That way Denethor could not try to evict you until it was too late." He paused and looked at her sternly, "And hopefully avoid you trying to manhandle the Steward of Gondor."

"Hey!" Buffy remarked defensively, "I wasn't going to use violence!" They stared at her disbelievingly, "I don't always use violence. Do I?"

Pippin stared at her, before shaking his head, "The important thing is that you believe that." he said drolly. Gandalf chuckled at the hobbit's words but Buffy just glared at him.

"Buffy, would you care to enlighten Pippin as to why he should keep his mouth shut?" Gandalf asked before Buffy could retaliate.

"Um, 'cos he's Boromir's father, a pompous ass and a power hungry jerk?" Buffy said mock thoughtfully, "Or would it be that if he found out about Frodo, he would try to take the Ring for himself without question? And string us up a shiny post?"

Gandalf sighed, "Listen carefully, Pippin. As Buffy said ever so graciously, _Lord _Denethor is Boromir's father. To give him news of his beloved son's death would be most unwise for he loved Boromir greatly. And do not mention Frodo, or the Ring. And say nothing of Aragorn, either. Or Buffy. In fact, 'tis better if you do not speak at all, Peregrin Took."

Pippin looked affronted as he trotted behind Gandalf but Buffy just laughed at him. Payback was a bitch, after all…

As soon as Gandalf and Pippin asked for admission into the hall, Buffy skittered up into the rafters and followed their path from above. After all, when dealing with Denethor, she had learned never to underestimate how low he could go.

When she got her first look at him, she was surprised. The line of Númenor was long lived, as Ecthelion had been, but Denethor looked aged beyond his years. And very cranky. Seated on the black throne like chair below the white marble throne of the king, clutching the white rod of the Steward, he looked very inconsequential.

Gandalf came forward, Pippin trailing in his wake, "Hail Denethor, son of Ecthelion, Lord and Steward of Gondor." he said formally, "I come with tidings in this dark hour, and with counsel."

Denethor did not look up. Instead, he plucked a cloven horn, Boromir's horn, from his lap and held it up slightly so that they could see. "Perhaps you come to explain this." he said, pinning Gandalf with a deadened and unwelcoming stare, "Perhaps you come to tell me why my son is dead."

Inwardly, Buffy cursed. How could he have heard of Boromir's 'death' already, when Boromir was not even really dead! And where on earth did he get the horn from?

Gandalf looked puzzled, but to both slayer and wizard's horror, Pippin stepped forward guiltily when he recognised the horn. "Boromir died to save us," he stated suddenly, causing Denethor to focus on him, "My kinsman and me. He fell defending us from many foes. He was a brave and valiant man."

Gandalf took a step forward, trying to recover from the hobbit's mistake, "Pippin!" Buffy chucked a pebble at the hobbit but nothing deterred him as he knelt down on the floor, "I offer you my service, such as it is, in payment of this debt."

Buffy groaned at his words even as Gandalf whacked the hobbit with his staff, "Get up!" he hissed, and then turned then to Denethor, trying to get the hobbit out of the mess that he had inadvertently dumped himself in, "Ignore the hobbit, my Lord, there will be another time to grieve for Boromir. But it is not now. War is coming. The enemy is on your doorstep! As steward, you are charged with the defence of this city! Where are Gondor's armies? It is not yet too late. You still have friends. You are not alone in this fight. Send word to the King of Rohan. Light the beacons..."

Denethor nearly snarled at the wizard's commanding tone, "You think you are wise, Mithrandir, yet for all your subtleties you have not wisdom. Do you think the eyes of the White Tower are blind? I have seen more than you know. With your left hand, you would use me as a shield against Mordor, and with your right, you would seek to supplant me! I know who rides with Théoden of Rohan. Oh yes! Word has reached my ears of this Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I tell you now I will not bow to this Ranger from the North, last of a ragged house long bereft of lordship."

Pippin looked up, "Théoden? But Éomer's king now!" he exclaimed to the steward. Gandalf had to mightily resist the urge to clobber Pippin with his staff.

Denethor looked at the wizard with narrowed eyes, "So, Gandalf's 'counsel' strikes again… You kill off the old to make way for the more malleable young. Do not think that I do not see your intent, wizard! I will not bow to the ragged exile you have pulled out in your delirium!"

Gandalf stood firm, but shoved Pippin backwards, "Authority is not given you to deny the return of the king, Steward." he said forcefully.

Riled, Denethor stood up, so the better to spit in the wizard's face, "The rule of Gondor is mine, and no other's!"

"I think you would find many that would disagree with that assessment," a voice drifted down to them from the rafters. The steward jumped in surprise.

Gandalf furiously resisted the urge to clobber both of them now, "Buffy! This is not the time for one of your jesting sessions!" he said with irritation. "Come down from there!"

A petulant voice came from above him, "But I _like_ the rafters," she whined, dropping down beside him with not as sound to mark her passage.

Pippin looked at the roof and then to her, "The floor is not good enough for you?" he asked, oblivious to the contortions going across Denethor's face at the sight of her.

"Easier to scare people this way." she replied airily and then turned to the fuming steward. "Well, nice to see you again too, Denethor. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"YOU!" Denethor bellowed, hands clenched into fists, "What are you doing in my city!"

"Saving your sorry ass, apparently," Buffy replied coolly, placing her hands on her hips, "And may I remind you that it's not your city. But Aragorn's."

"You filthy little wench!" Denethor spat, "You have been helping that fool of a wizard, have you not! Conspiring to rob me of my lands!"

Buffy sighed, "I am sick and tired of you blaming me for everything you can't handle." she said angrily, trying to keep her temper as Gandalf let her and the steward duke it out, "You want to be enemies? Try me. But one hint of warning, I'm nasty. And I don't like you."

"You dare threaten the steward of Gondor?" Denethor snarled, "Guards!" he called, causing several of the citadel guards to race in, "This woman has made a threat on my life and seeks to overthrow my rule! Take her to the dungeons and keep her there!"

Buffy waved at the guards who stared between the diminutive woman and their lord, "That would be little ol' me. However, if you come near me, I will have to resort to violence. And I can't guarantee that you will leave with all your bones intact. And because Denethor here forgot to mention it, the last time I was in this city, my name was Eliza. Lieutenant Eliza, under Captain Thorongil."

The guards started in surprise at the name, recognising it from tales of 'better days'. They stared at her youthful face and looked at her in plain disbelief. Denethor saw it too and sought to capitalise on it.

"Do not listen to a word she says!" he ordered briskly, "She is a witch! Look at her! Eliza would be my age now. And if she were who she claims to be, that would make her a witch in league with Sauron. Seize her!"

"By the Valar!" Buffy swore, "If someone calls me that just _one_ more time, I will just scream! Please, if anyone's the raving lunatic here, it's Denethor. I'm only going to say this one more time - touch me and you are gonna get hurt."

"I would listen to her if I were you," Pippin said cheerily, for once not looking disconcerted at the prospect of an imminent fight.

Gandalf just stood back, sighing all the while but inwardly cheering as Buffy inadvertently did what he had wanted her to do. Indeed, she was doing such a good job of it that he had to stop himself from humming in glee. Denethor would have to learn not to underestimate a wizard.

"Seize her!" Denethor ordered again and the men advanced on her. Faster than they ever could have expected, Buffy took one of them down with a roundhouse kick and hit another over the head, causing him to drop to the ground. The remaining two men looked between each other and her.

"See?" Buffy said conversationally, "I am not someone to be messed with. So you two guys leave me alone, and I leave you alone. And to be nice, I will even let you take sleepy and groany over here. Sound fair?"

The men of Gondor did not lack in courage, but neither were they fools and Denethor had long been losing support in the eyes of those he ruled. And Buffy, even clad in the worn clothes of a frequent traveller, still had that almost intangible presence that only the highest of nobility seemed to exude. They had seen it before, in Prince Imrahil and Lord Faramir most often, and in Lord Boromir on occasion. Therefore, they knew enough to leave the lady in front of them well alone. Besides, she travelled with Gandalf the Grey, and he had never caused trouble for the city before, save to rile the steward.

Denethor looked at them in disgust as they carted off their injured companions, "Cowards!" he spat, "Or do you bewitch them still Eliza?"

"Actually, it's Buffy now," the slayer said coolly, "And you would do well to remember it. After all, war's coming and my patience is already worn thin. I can still carry through on my threats all those years ago. I trust that you do remember that at least?"

Denethor's deadened eyes flashed menacingly, "This is my realm," he bit out, "And you are hereby banished from it! I will not suffer you in my halls!"

"Ooooooooh! Poor _baby_," Buffy cooed in a sickeningly sweet voice which abruptly changed to an ice cold one, "But do I look as if I give a damn? I'm here for a reason and that hasn't changed. Now, I can work with you or I can work around you, I don't really care but consider this. - This is a war and we are the soldiers. Tomorrow the war could be over. Isn't that worth fighting for? Or are you the real coward?"

"Whatever sway you held with my father passed with him," Denethor snarled, "I do not have to tolerate you. I will not tolerate you. Do you think that I would allow you and that wizard loose in my city? I am lord here. And I will not allow it."

"What have you seen, Denethor?" Buffy asked, voice frosty and eyes even colder, "What did you see in that palantír? What lies has Sauron shown you?"

Denethor looked at her, surprised at her knowledge. "Nothing that I would ever tell you."

"Listen here, Denethor," Buffy said, warning in her voice as her hand slipped down to the hilt of her sword, "I don't care if you're King of the goddamn world, I'm brassed off and unfortunately for you, you're in convenient firing range as a major cause of it. So I would suggest you start spilling your guts before I do it for you. Literally."

Denethor finally seemed to believe that she was serious in her threats and the rage wilted away to simmering resentment as he returned to his throne. "I care not. We are all lost anyway."

As Buffy stared at him, realising she would get nothing but aggravation from her efforts, Gandalf placed a hand on her shoulder and started to lead her away, "Come," he said quietly, the disgust plain in his voice, "All has turned to vain ambition. There is nothing that will sway him now. He would even use his grief as a cloak. Come, let him be."

Buffy kicked the wall as they reached the edge of the courtyard, staring down at the other six levels of the city, and then towards the Pelennor and the Rammas Echor that enclosed it.

Gandalf muttered angrily as he pondered his options, "Three thousand years this city has stood. Now, at the whim of a madman, it will fall."

"Great," Buffy muttered, "Keep up that level of optimism and maybe we can redecorate the rubble."

He looked at her, and some of his wrath seemed to clear, "If something is not done, the White Tree, the tree of the King, will never bloom again. For the king will not have a city to return to."

Buffy was silent. "Why are they still guarding it?" Pippin asked, looking at the withered remains.

Gandalf followed his gaze and sighed, "They guard it because they have hope." he said simply, "A faint and fading hope that one day it will flower. That a king will come and this city will be as it once was before it fell into decay. They have to hold onto that hope or they cannot stand against Mordor."

"Aragorn will come, Gandalf," Buffy said, "It may take more time than we would like but he'll come. All we have to do is make sure this city is still standing when he does."

"That is easier said than done," Gandalf said, studying her carefully, "The old wisdom borne out of the West is forsaken. The rule of Gondor has been given over to lesser men. Who will lead them now? Since the line of kings failed and the White Tree withered, Minas Tirith has been falling into decay. Who now within these walls can hold it together against the might of Sauron?"

Buffy looked out towards the horizon and towards the creeping fire in the east, the sky lit a violent black and red that steadily reached out its hand towards Gondor. "Mordor lies out there," she said softly, "This city has dwelt ever in the sight of its shadow. I fought against it once before. And now it's coming for us. For the final time, whichever way this ends. I made a promise to do all in my power to keep the White City standing. I'm going to hold to my word. If you can't find someone to hold the city together, I'll do it."

Gandalf smiled softly, but triumphantly, "Then my thanks go out to the slayer for taking this charge. I could think of few more qualified. This was your home once before, Buffy. Make it so once again."

Pippin, uncomfortable at the direction the talk was taking, not liking the rather grim picture they were painting, nudged Gandalf's elbow, "Look," he said, pointing outwards towards the violently coloured horizon, "A storm is coming…."

Gandalf looked out and then met Buffy's level expression. Quietly, so as not to frighten the hobbit overmuch, he explained, "This is not the natural weather of the world. This is a device of Sauron's making. A broil of fume he sends ahead of his host to speed his advance. The orcs of Mordor have no love of daylight so he covers the face of the sun to ease their passage along the road to war. When the shadow of Mordor reaches this city, it will begin."

Pippin gulped, "Well, that is not good," he said, the faintest touch of hysteria in his voice, "Well… Minas Tirith… very impressive. So where are we off to next?"

Gandalf smiled slightly at the hobbit's words, "Oh, 'tis far, far too late for that Peregrin. There is no leaving this city. Help must come to us."

Buffy touched the wizard's arm and whispered lowly in his ear, "There is something I must do. I will find you later."

"Be careful Buffy," he said.

"I will be." she replied and then re-entered the citadel. Her feet swiftly carried her back to Denethor's hall, what should have been the king's hall. He was staring at the horn again, despair and his ever present resentment giving him no desire to try to save his own city. "Denethor," she greeted him, and her voice and expression were hard and merciless. "I watched you when you were only the heir and you disgusted me then, as well as now. You would let Minas Tirith rot before you ever lifted a hand in its defence. Well, I'm not having it. Aragorn made a promise to your son not to let this city fall. Well, I'm holding up his end of the bargain. You are not fit to rule, Denethor, and no matter how much you desire it, you will never be seen as king. I'm deposing you in the name of the King, on the grounds that you're absolutely incapable of discharging the duties of Steward. Your armies will be mine. Got that?"

"Sauron will skin you alive," Denethor said in reply, his thirst for revenge visible, "He will destroy everything in his path. Nothing can stop him now."

"The only thing that could accomplish that would be for good people to stand aside and do nothing." Buffy said quietly, "Like you are. But I'm not planning on letting that happen. And consider yourself warned, Denethor. You get in my way and I will take you out. Goodbye and good riddance."

****

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Buffy found Pippin and Gandalf in the bottom level, waiting with many others for desperately needed help to arrive into the city. All the way to and beyond the Rammas Echor rose dust from the last wagons to leave for the safer fiefdoms along the coast and the mountain villages and the vales of Tumladen and Lossarnach. Those carrying the last of the women and children, the old and the sick that would leave the city and they choked the roads with their numbers. Some remained behind out of choice or because they could not go. But they were few.

"How did your talks with Denethor go?" Gandalf asked when he saw her.

She did not bat an eyelid, "I informed him that I'm deposing him." she said calmly, "So when the man I want gets here, Denethor's getting booted out of here. Which means advantage us."

"Never one for subtlety are you?" Gandalf asked, smiling.

"In most cases, violence does the trick," Buffy said airily, "And it is my speciality after all. Besides when dealing with creeps like Denethor, subtlety is overrated. Now, who are we waiting on here? Do you know what numbers are already in the city?"

"Not enough," Gandalf replied, "Not nearly enough. The rangers of Ithilien under Captain Faramir hold Ithilien but not for much longer, I would wager. And the Captains of the Outlands are expected up the South Road ere sundown."

"You mean them?" Buffy asked, pointing into the distance.

Gandalf squinted and then looked at her balefully, even as Pippin hopped to try to see over the wall. All they could see were the rising clouds of dust from the multitude of horses, carts and people.

Some minutes after Buffy pointed out the new dust cloud, the murmurs began amongst the men gathered along the verge of the road, glad to see some help come at last. And then the horns sounded and the men gathered cheered as a group of men approached.

"Forlong! Forlong!" they shouted, causing Buffy to smile.

"More like Forlong the Fat," Buffy answered, "I remember him. Pudgy little kid. Cantankerous too. He's the Lord of Lossarnach now though," she added before Pippin could ask.

As Buffy and Gandalf watched critically, the line of men started to pass through the gate, led by an enormous man riding on a huge horse. Behind him came a proud line of dusty men, and to her relief, well-armed and carrying great battle axes that would have made Gimli proud.

The men of Gondor were overjoyed, cheering and praising them as they passed by them, "Forlong!" the men shouted, "True heart, true friend! Forlong!" But when the last man had passed, the mutterings turned sour, "So few!" they cried in dismay.

"So few! Only two hundreds!" one man cried, "We had hoped for ten times that number! That will be the new tidings of the black fleet. They are sparing only a tithe of their strength. Still, every little is a gain."

At the man's words, Buffy's eyes darkened. There was only one black fleet that assaulted Gondor. The Corsairs… Apparently, those damn pirates were back again. And draining badly needed strength from Gondor's capital. It really did not bode well. Still, she had to trust that Aragorn would take care of them. After all, if Aragorn could raise the army of the dead, then the Corsairs would be running scared. It was only a pity that she would not be there to see it. Scaring pirates was always fun.

As the afternoon wore on and Gandalf and Pippin left on business, or snooping as Buffy put it; Buffy made mental plans as more companies came and were hailed and cheered and passed through the Gate, men of the Outlands marching to defend the City of Gondor in a dark hour; but always too few, always less than hope looked for or need asked. Buffy did not like the feeling of despair that the men of Gondor seemed to have. With Boromir lost and Denethor despairing, and Faramir out defending Osgiliath, they had no one to look to for courage and leadership.

Still, she counted up all those who came… The men of Ringló Vale behind the son of their lord, Dervorin striding on foot; three hundreds. From the uplands of Morthond, the great Blackroot Vale, tall Duinhir with his sons, Duilin and Derufin, and five hundred bowmen. From the Anfalas, the Langstrand far away, a long line of men of many sorts, hunters and herdsmen and men of little villages, scantily equipped save for the household of Golasgil their lord. From Lamedon, a few grim hillmen without a captain. Fisher-folk of the Ethir, some hundred or more spared from the ships. Hirluin the Fair of the Green Hills from Pinnath Gelin with three hundreds of gallant green-clad men.

And last and most looked for, causing Buffy to perk up in glee, Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth, brother in law to Denethor, uncle to Boromir and Faramir, descendent of the elleth Mithrellas of Lórien, ruler of the sea haven of Dol Amroth. He came with bright gilded banners bearing his token of the Ship and the Silver Swan, and a company of knights in full harness riding proud grey horses; and behind them seven hundreds of men at arms, tall as lords, grey-eyed, dark-haired, and singing as they came.

Buffy looked at Imrahil and knew she had found her co-conspirator. The man who could help her wrench control away from Denethor once and for all.

But the tallies of men were not great. Only three thousand had come from all the provinces of Gondor. Sauron had sent ten thousand at Rohan through Saruman, how much more would he send against the capital of Gondor? When he knew that the king of men was on his way?

Due to losses and the need for the provinces to maintain their own defence, and poor recruiting for the army by Denethor throughout the years of his rule, they had perhaps ten thousand men. No more would come from Gondor now. No more could.

Ten thousand against an army that she feared to be ten times that number or more. As Gandalf had warned, Sauron would do anything to crush Minas Tirith before he would see the coming of the king. And Denethor would do nothing to even attempt to halt Sauron's advances. She owed it to Aragorn and Boromir to ensure that the city stood.

Whatever the cost.

****

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Heading back into the citadel to track down Imrahil of Dol Amroth, Buffy had to admit that she was not totally surprised when a group of guards tried to arrest her. Again.

"Great," she snapped in irritation, glaring balefully at the men blocking her path, "Haven't we been through this before? And didn't you lose? Now kindly get out of my way before I flatten you. Understood?"

Two guards grabbed hold of her arms and Buffy's eyes narrowed, "You'd better have a very good reason for doing that."

"You are under arrest for treason against the Steward of Gondor," the lead guard announced.

"Treason?" Buffy repeated incredulously, "Okay, that is so wrong. Because firstly, I'm not from Gondor so I don't answer to him. Two, I already showed him and you that I could kick your butts. And three, I'm here to help keep Sauron out of the city. Now you have got to the count of three to remove your hands from me gentlemen, or I make with the flattening. One…." The guards twitched and looked at their commander who shook his head. "Two…." They smartly reached for their weapons. "And three…." And then all the really smart ones took a step back. Buffy jerked out of the guards' hold and punched him in the face but then the second guard slapped her even as the others moved to contain her and then everything froze.

Everybody stopped what they were doing and the vast majority started shaking inwardly. The smarter people decided to get away as soon as possible. But everyone unconsciously took a few steps back as Mount Buffy let rip.

She punched him once and sent him flying into the fountain. Breathing heavily, she stared at the downed man and ground out, "If _anyone_ touches me like that again, I will make sure they end up cleaning up horse manure for the rest of their life!"

Spinning, she stormed through the crowd of guards, all of whom wisely stepped out of her way, recognising the dangerous air around her. Storming into Denethor's halls and walking on a surprised steward and Imrahil, Buffy stalked up to the glowering steward and before Imrahil could do anything, picked him up by the neck, ruthlessly squeezing his airways until he gasped.

"What did you think that little stunt was going to accomplish, Denethor?" she hissed, glaring into his wide eyes, "What part of 'I'm here to help' did you not understand, you big oaf? Now, do something like that again, and I will have to toss you out a window at the very least. I guarantee you wouldn't like the results. They don't exactly have a great spinal injury unit in Gondor. And by the way, you have nearly destroyed this city with your inaction! And since you think war preparations beneath you, and I plan on doing them instead, I assure you, try to arrest me again and you will know such peril as I once before threatened you with!" Buffy said, and her voice was fell as she spoke, and no longer amiable did she seem, but some warrior maiden of old, and her eyes spoke of long years of wisdom that her unlined face did not show, "Interfere again, and I will throw you from the White Tower to your doom!"

Seeing the growing fear, she bashed him over the head with the hilt of her dagger and leaving him to slump to the floor, turned to Imrahil and smiled brightly, "I'm Buffy," she said cheerily, holding out her hand in greeting, "I'm taking over management of this city. Wanna help?"

Imrahil looked at her in bemusement, and stared at the unconscious steward. But he was of noble descent and the foresight of his forbears remained with him and he saw that she was noble and honourable. "I am Imrahil, my lady," he said, kissing her hand gallantly, "And if you truly wish to see Gondor put up a fight, I will help."

"You do realise that I could get into a of a lot of trouble doing this." he said warningly.

She smiled cheerfully, "Oh, definitely not as much as if you don't." she answered only mock jokingly.

He laughed slightly, "But do you see any hope that we shall stand?" he asked.

"There is always hope, Imrahil," Buffy said firmly, "And damn glad to have you on board. Those guards seem to have this strange habit of not listening to me."

Imrahil did not get a chance to reply as half a dozen counsellors entered the chamber without warning and coming to an abrupt halt, stared at the fallen form of the steward. Buffy greeted them with a chilly smile and said gleefully, "Sorry guys but I'm afraid that Denethor is a little…. indisposed. You'll be dealing with me and Imrahil here. You don't like that, I get to throw you in the dungeons. Got it?"

Naturally, the counsellors were horrified, "You cannot do that!" one pompous man cried, "We are needed! We have a strategy!"

"I already have a strategy," Buffy said warningly, "You're not in it. So get out of here!"

"But Prince Imrahil!" they cried in dismay, seeking some sanity in the midst of all this madness.

The prince of the swan-haven held up his hands in the universal gesture of peace, "I am sorry, counsellors," he said with no regret, "I think that you have to listen to her."

"But you cannot do that!" they sputtered, "You have to consider the traditional methods of doing things..."

"Consider them considered." Buffy said, "Now goodbye, gentlemen. Me and Imrahil here got a war to plan. And if you are in such a bother to find something to do, get Denethor out of here and fetch Gandalf."

Buffy swore that she had never seen such scandalised faces in her life.

****

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Buffy found Gandalf and Pippin ensconced in their quarters, watching as the darkness spread out from Mordor. Eventually it would turn the day prematurely to night.

The atmosphere was tense as she entered, Gandalf explaining to Pippin the extent of their problem. "There never was much hope, my boy... Just a fool's hope. Our Enemy is ready… His full strength gathered. Not only Orcs and wraiths, but Men as well. Legions of Haradrim from the south. Mercenaries from the coast. All will answer Mordor's call. This will be the end of Gondor as we know it. Here the hammer-stroke will fall the hardest. If the river is taken, if the garrison at Osgiliath falls, the last defence of this city will be gone."

"Osgiliath will fall," Buffy said, joining them at the balcony, "It's a given. How can they hold it against what's coming?"

Pippin looked between them, "But we have the White Wizard, and that has got to count for something. Does it not Gandalf?"

The wizard looked into the gathering dark, and his eyes were shadowed. "Not as much as you would think, Pippin," he answered after a moment, "Sauron has yet to release his deadliest servant…. The one who will lead Mordor's armies in war. The one they say no living Man can kill. The Witch-king of Angmar. You have met him before… He stabbed Frodo on Weathertop. He is the lord of the Nazgûl, the greatest of the Nine. And Minas Morgul is his lair."

Buffy's own expression grew grim at his words, "And from Minas Morgul an army shall come." she added, "From the ruins of a city they conquered before, will come an army to crush its twin. But he's not invincible, Gandalf." She looked at the wizard meaningfully, "He may be a Witch-king, but you've got your own witch."

The wizard looked at her wearily, "It may not be enough, Buffy. He may be expecting it."

"It's better than nothing," she replied, "After all, what's the worst he can do?"

As if in answer to her words, the ground shook under their feet and as they watched in horror, a large, bright pillar of eerie green light filled the sky, originating in Mordor. In Minas Morgul. The pillar cast an eerie green luminescence over everything, making many shrink with fear.

"Okay, maybe I shouldn't have said that." Buffy said, watching the light show in the sky.

Gandalf stared at it avidly, "And so it begins…" he murmured, "His army comes. The pieces are moving…."

"Way to be cheerful, Gandalf," Buffy said shakily, and then paled as a thought came to her, "Who is holding Osgiliath?"

"Captain Faramir and his garrison," Gandalf replied.

"Oooh boy," Buffy breathed and then turned to the wizard, "Gandalf, I've got to go to him. They have to be delayed at Osgiliath. Tell Imrahil to follow through with the plans we made."

Gandalf looked at her and then shook his head wryly, "Númenor would have been proud to have you, Buffy." he said fondly, "But heed my advice. Find the fire within you and let it consume the orcs that challenge you." he paused, not wanting to put undue pressure on her, "Dagnir, Osgiliath _must _hold."

She grabbed her cloak and tightened the belt of her sword, "It will not," she replied quietly, "But I will buy you what time I can. Namárië!"

And so, under the cover of the growing darkness, Buffy left the relative safety of Minas Tirith and headed for the battleground of Osgiliath.

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But while Buffy rode out to the aid of Faramir, Gandalf was busy working on his own agenda and he too, sought out Imrahil for the same reasons that Buffy had. Imrahil was noble, honourable, well-respected, and in a position of power.

And so, to help his own plans and to further Aragorn's, while he was conveying Buffy's message to the Prince, he decided to 'accidentally' let slip a titbit of information…

After all, what were wizards but supreme meddlers?

"And as you know, my lord," he said casually, "Lady Buffy has more right to do this than any here."

Imrahil looked puzzled, "What do you mean?"

Gandalf feigned surprise, "She did not tell you?" he said, "I am sorry, I thought you knew. Lady Buffy is not just a warrior of great renown, but the betrothed wife of Lord Aragorn, son of Arathorn, the Heir of Isildur."

Imrahil's eyes widened, "Isildur's heir?" he whispered in disbelief, "He comes?"

"He does," Gandalf said assuredly, "While he gathers all the aid he can for Gondor, Buffy has come to hold the city in any way she can. She is most amply qualified."

"His betrothed?" Imrahil asked, "But does that not mean that she is…"

"Your future queen if the battle is won?" Gandalf finished for him, "Aye. It does. Lady Buffy has the long-livedness of the Dúnedain and so she and Lord Aragorn have been betrothed for many a year now. And the time is nearly upon us for the return of the King."

Imrahil looked horrified, "Do you mean to tell me that you let the future queen of Gondor run off to Osgiliath without guard or escort or anything?"

Gandalf patted the man on the shoulder, "Let me tell you this as a friend, Imrahil," he said, "Buffy is a unique creature. When you know her better, you will learn."

"Why does that sound like I should be afraid?" Imrahil asked wryly, causing the wizard to chuckle.

"Too true, my friend," he agreed, "Too true."

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Later that day, Imrahil confronted his now awake liege.

Staring at the mess the man was in, and listening to his ranting, Imrahil shook his head at his law-brother, "I had been warned that you had fallen to madness but loath was I to believe it. Yet I look at you now and can deny its truth no longer. You are not fit to keep the title of Steward of Gondor; you are not fit to lead Gondor in this war. Indeed you seem fit for very little of anything, save giving in to bouts of despair and self pity that serve no purpose but to make the people doubt you."

Giving the man no chance to reply, he moved towards the door, "I know not what happened to you Denethor, but the demented creature that stands before me now is not my liege, merely a shell of a former Lord. And my allegiance to you ends. I pledge my loyalty to the king, in preparation for his arrival. Goodbye, Denethor."

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Osgiliath, Gondor, 3010 TA, March 14.

When Faramir and his men reached Osgiliath, it was evident that the attack was well under way.

Mardil was horrified, "Look!" he cried, pointing at the smoke rising, "The city burns!"

Faramir was expressionless, "Mordor has come…" he stated simply.

Though the city was under heavy siege, he knew that it had to be held. It was Minas Tirith's last defence before the Rammas Echor. And the only place they could delay a large host. The Pelennor was simply too large. Any gains had to be fought for here.

"We must try to retake the city," he ordered, "Spread out. Keep under the range of the arrows. We must get to Landran."

The route into the city was tough going, and the city itself was being bombarded by orcish catapults. Every so often, one of the old towers would crumble into pieces, raining debris and dust on top of them.

They dodged enemy fire, rocks and arrows, returning none of their own for the orcs were not yet within the city walls, but outside them and the longer it took for them to realise that reinforcements had come, the better chance the rangers had of surviving.

He found Landran holding the base in the middle of the city and never had he seen the lieutenant look so relieved to see him, "Faramir!" he called lowly, careful not to let any orcs hear, "Orcs have taken the eastern shore. They are coming in droves by boat. I am sorry but their numbers are too great. By nightfall we will be overrun."

Faramir pulled out a map of the city and was only just barely yanked back by Landran before a tower overhead crashed on top of him. "The city shakes," the lieutenant warned him as Madril set up the perimeter, "Be careful. They are aiming for the towers so that they can crush us amongst the rubble."

The barely perceptible sound of footsteps came to Faramir's ears and before the others could react, he had his bow notched at the figure that appeared in an archway.

The woman arched her brow, "Impressive," she said, "But I'm not the enemy so if you could please not shoot me?"

Faramir eyed her warily, even as his men started in surprise at the appearance of a woman, "Who are you?" he said, not lowering his bow an inch.

"A friend," the woman replied, "I was sent by Gandalf the Grey to find Faramir. Are you him?"

"I am," he replied, "But if you are a friend of Gandalf the Grey, tell me something less obvious about him. The days are dark and I cannot trust the spies of Sauron to be forthcoming about their allegiance."

"Well, if you know him at all, you know he likes to speak in cryptic, has a high regard for the Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond and likes hobbits. But it's okay, I'm one of the Dúnedain."

"You? One of the Dúnedain?" Faramir asked incredulously.

Her face hardened, "I served under the Steward Ecthelion for a time. My name was Lieutenant Eliza back then. But I go by Buffy now."

Faramir blinked but something told him that she was not lying. "I think that you speak the truth. But why are you here?"

"To stop you from dying for a lost cause," she answered, moving forward, "The city is destroyed and overrun. If you fight them head on, you will lose most, if not all, of your men. Booby-trap it, Faramir, it is the only way."

"You want me to give up on Osgiliath." he stated.

She nodded, "I do," she replied, "For better or worse, you've got a part to play in this war and you can't do it if you are dead. Now, will you at least hear me out…?"

He studied her carefully for a moment, and then nodded, "I will listen…"

"Good." she said, "Because I think we can cause maximum damage if we just do this…"

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Edoras, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 14.

Seated on a small hill near the King's halls, Aragorn stared into the sky, smoking his pipe and thinking about the turns that his life was about to take. Gandalf had warned him to take the Paths of the Dead, the route through the mountains that the Rohirrim so feared. It was said that none who entered there ever came out again. Knowing what he did of the tale, Aragorn knew that it was probably true. He knew what Isildur's curse had sentenced the mountain people to.

After so many years of wandering across Middle Earth, disguising himself and his heritage, now the time had come for him to claim what everyone insisted was his. The throne of Gondor. Over the course of this journey, he had resigned himself to his fate. Gondor needed for its king to return. And he was the only one able to do it. It was a heavy burden and one that he would have to carry. But it would be so much easier to carry it if he was not alone.

Buffy… Nothing was ever easy with her… Ever since he had woken up to find her gone, gone to Gondor with Gandalf and Pippin, he had wondered as to her reasons. Why did she always have to run from him? And if running was what she had done, then why had she spoken such sweet lies that night? He had not thought her insincere, but even the bravest heart could quake when it came to matters of the heart. It was a puzzling and unsettling worry that nagged at him.

Sighing, he turned his head and spotted something bright in the distance. Blinking, he looked closer at it and gasped as he recognised that it was a beacon of Gondor. Gondor was sending out the signal for help. Throwing down his pipe, he raced towards Meduseld, nearly knocking people over in his haste and racing up the steps to the Golden Hall, he threw open the doors and flew inside. "The beacons of Minas Tirith!" he exclaimed as Éomer and Éowyn turned to stare at him, "The beacons are lit! Gondor calls for aid!"

Éomer nodded shortly, he had been expecting this. "Then Rohan will answer," he said simply. And then turned to Gamling and Elfhelm. "It is time to muster the Rohirrim," he ordered, not shaken in the least at the thought of his first battle as king, "Assemble the Men at Dunharrow, as many Men as can be found. You have two days. On the third, we ride for Gondor… and war. If Gondor falls, so do we. We shall honour the Oath of Eorl."

Aragorn nodded his thanks, "Gamling," Éomer said, "You discharged this office for my uncle and now I do the same for me. Make haste across the Riddermark. Summon every able-bodied man to Dunharrow. Erkenbrand's warriors are already there and the people of Edoras can stay there until tidings come, - good or ill. Éowyn shall lead them."

"But Éomer!" Éowyn cried in dismay, "I do not wish to be sent off with the children! Let me come with you! Did I not prove my valour at Helms Deep?"

"You did much more than that, sister," Éomer said gently, "But there are but two of our house left. Someone must lead our people and supervise the last defence if need be."

"And is that your command, my lord?" Éowyn said stiffly, glaring petulantly at her brother.

"It is Éowyn. Your people will have need of you." Éomer said, and then turned to Elfhelm, "Gather all the riders in the city. We leave at once. Before the walls of Minas Tirith, our doom shall be decided. I plan for it to be Sauron's doom! Go!"

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Twenty minutes later, Faramir followed Buffy's advice and arranged his rangers along the river.

From their position, they could see the orcs' boats approaching far more stealthily than they would ever have expected. Sauron had planned this well. And the threat of the Witch-king was enough to keep any orc in line.

Ever so quietly, the hood of her cloak up, Buffy crept forward, Faramir covering her back, and along the main road from the river, between two of the tallest remanding buildings in the city, she began pouring a thin trail of dark powder. Using it sparingly, she left a trail between the two buildings, and made sure to pour it near the foundations.

Slipping back beside Faramir, she lowered her hood, "It is done."

"What must we do?" he asked, "Their numbers are too great."

"Think of it this way," Buffy said quietly, sketching out her plans in the soft dirt, "They are expecting a fight. We are not going to give them the one they expect. We are going to be the bait. We station ourselves down this road and we wait for them to come to us. Once the majority are in range, I fire the lighted arrow and the road goes boom, taking the orcs with it. Trust me, Faramir, I have seen it work at Helms Deep. It blew a hole in the Deeping Wall for Eru's sake!"

"You had better hope this works," he said briskly and then turned to Madril and Landran, "We will wait for them at the end of the main road. Go quickly. It does not matter if they see you. They are meant to."

Dodging the hail of arrows that came at them as soon as they poked their heads up, they ran for it, Buffy soon outstripping the pack. As she dived behind a downed tower at the designated spot, she pulled out her bow and when Faramir arrived, he quickly set fire to an arrow and notched it to her bow.

With a triumphant roar, the first orcs touched down on the shore, waves of them pouring from the boats and into the streets. And upon hearing the overloud shouts of the men of Gondor as they pelted it down the road at full speed, they gave exultant chase, hungry for fresh meat.

It was a desire that disgusted Buffy but its sheer reliability gave her room to work with.

Aiming for the biggest clump of powder, she waited until the street was choked with orcs, even though the men's breathing was speeding up the closer the orcs got, before loosing the arrow.

It flew through the air with an accuracy that would have done Legolas proud, and landed right in the middle of her target. Even as she ducked, the ground shook as the Wizard's Fire ripped through the buildings, causing them to collapse on the crowd of stunned orcs. To enhance the effect, Buffy made sure to use Narya to give more range to the explosion. She did not know how it worked, but she trusted that Narya did and let the Ring do what it willed. It apparently did not like orcs either.

As soon as the major debris stopped falling on them, she grabbed Faramir, "We have to go!" she said urgently, "We have to get out of here. They'll find a way around it shortly!"

Madril seconded her immediately, "Faramir, we cannot hold them! The city is lost!"

Faramir nodded and looked between them, "Tell the Men to break cover. We ride for Minas Tirith."

A sudden high-pitched shriek sounded from overhead, driving some of the men to their knees and Buffy looked up in fear. "Oh no…." she breathed.

Faramir's own expression was a copy of hers, "Nazgûl!" he roared, throwing himself down as a Ringwraith on a winged monster circled overhead before flying down between the buildings, snatching up screaming men in its claws, ripping them to shreds before reaching for another.

Buffy grabbed Faramir, "Run!" she cried, dodging her way through the rubble, being careful to keep low.

Faramir gasped as he saw Madril fall to an orc arrow with a mortal wound, "Fall back!" he bellowed, "Fall back to Minas Tirith!"

Buffy made sure to stick close to Faramir as the men of Gondor raced to where the horses were kept, dodging the hail of arrows and rocks, and the orcs that were pouring through the city. Men fell, but they had no time to go back for them. They would all die if they could. All they could do was run.

At last, they broke out to the city walls, where the horses were saddled and they nearly fell upon them in their haste. Buffy leapt upon her horse and spun the stallion around even as Faramir leapt up onto his and urged the others to hurry up. "Quickly!" he shouted, "Retreat! Retreat!"

Osgiliath had fallen.

But even as they raced desperately towards the city, the sky was filled with the high pitched shrieks of the Nazgûl and they started to dart down between them, snatching men as they dived.

But what caused Buffy's blood to chill was not the Nazgûl, but the Black Captain. And as she looked above her, she saw the helmeted face, felt the powerful malice as it closed in on her.

The Witch-King had arrived….

And he was gunning for her….

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A/N: Well? Opinions please! Please **READ **and **REVIEW!**

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Next chapter: Osgiliath is attacked… Rohan answers… plotting… brewing trouble… visitors from the north… and the key players for the freedom of Middle Earth follow their separate paths… wherever they might lead….

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Elvish:

Elleth - she-Elf

Dagnir - slayer

Namárië - farewell

Dúnedain - Men of the West

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Dol Amroth - the royalty of Dol Amroth are believed to have an Elven foremother in their line. Stronghold of Gondor on Belfalas, named after Amroth King of Lórien (deceased.).

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Dunharrow - Fortified refuge in the Ered Nimrais. It is the mountain refuge of the people of Rohan. And the entrance to the Paths of the Dead is there.

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Eärendil - Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth.

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Éoherë - term used by the Rohirrim for the full muster of their cavalry.

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Henneth Annûn - 'Window of the Sunset'. name of a cave behind a waterfall in Ithilien.

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Imrahil - Prince of Dol Amroth at the time of the War of the Ring. The line of the Princes of Dol Amroth is said to be of Elvish descent, a foremother being a Silvan Elf and a handmaiden of the Elleth Nimrodel of Lórien. Father of Lothíriel. Denethor's brother-in-law. Uncle to Faramir and Boromir.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Ithilien - territory of Gondor, east of Anduin. In the earliest time the possession of Isildur and ruled from Minas Ithil.

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Khamûl - Ringwraith. Second only to the Witch-King. Also known as the 'Black Easterling'. Was perhaps the wraith with the strongest capability of thinking for himself but had the weakest powers during the day. In charge of Dol Guldur.

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Lothíriel - daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, wife of King Éomer of Rohan and mother of Elfwine the Fair.

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Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.

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Morgul Vale - once housed a city of Gondor called Minas Ithil 'Tower of the Moon' but was overrun by Sauron before the Last Alliance. It is now a province of Mordor that houses the Ringwraiths that do not hold Dol Guldur in Mirkwood.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

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Palantír - one of the seven seeing stones that were scattered throughout Gondor and Arnor during the reign of Elendil. For the last few centuries, they have been considered unsafe to use as it is believed that one of them is in the possession of Sauron.

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Pelennor fields - 'Fenced Land'. The 'town lands' of Minas Tirith. Guarded by the wall of Rammas Echor.

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Rammas Echor - out-wall. For ten leagues or so it ran, from the mountains' feet and back again, enclosing in its fence the fields of the Pelennor.

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Red Arrow - the 'war-arrow' sent from Gondor to Rohan as a token of the need in Minas Tirith.

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Ring of Barahir - Heirloom of the House of Isildur.

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The Citadel - the High Court. The Place of the Fountain beneath the feet of the White Tower.

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Thorongil - 'eagle of the star'. Aragorn's alias when he served as an officer to Ecthelion II, Steward of Gondor and when he rode with the Rohirrim under King Thengel.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	50. In the Line of Fire

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Another milestone! The fiftieth chapter! Finally!

And I apologise for the horrendous delay but my exams are killing me. The teachers are piling on the work, and I actually have to _study_! (Which I hate doing) And then there is the grand ol' college debacle, on top of some personal problems, a cold, etc… You get the picture…. However, I will try my utmost to get chapter 51 out on time. The only problem is my exams start the week chapter 52 is due, so that is still up in the air. If 52 does not appear, you know that Real Life and the Dreaded Exams have interfered…. But never fear, once they are over, summer hols begin! Freedom and free time!

Also, ff dot net wouldn't let me update on Saturday, so this chapter was posted at TTH (in my bio) on Saturday.

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Review responses:

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - thank you! Sadly, Boromir will not be able to do as you suggested.

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Allen Pitt - Yes, but if he fell down the stairs, then he couldn't suffer and cause mayhem for the plotline could he? And Sauron has a LOT of tricks. Do try to guess.

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Arcrose - thanks! And I do not think Buffy wants to flash the Ring of Barahir. Way too many complications there. And no, Aragorn is not running into Boromir anytime soon. And Arwen is up to… well, she is up to a lot. And sadly, the Witch-King is not that easy to get rid of…

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Athene Saile - yes, I think by this point that even Gandalf is admitting that he is a renowned meddler! And with a nice big war to distract her, methinks Gandalf can keep Buffy oblivious until it is too late…

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ChibiChibi - thank you! Boromir will appear soon, just not where you might think he is going to be. And yes, you are right. By this point, the Witch-King has a choice of blonde-haired women to kill him….

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Clcountry - thanks! Sorry, no Scoobies, just an old villain.

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Clint - thanks and welcome!

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D347hbyp45510n - thanks! Yes, Éowyn will ride. And cannot tell you any more than that both Buffy and Éowyn will get their chance to bash the Witch-king. Pity him.

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Devine-desire - wow! Thank you!

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FallenAngelLindsay - No, she is going to post it under mine. But she has not finished a chapter yet. So…. Your guess is as good as mine…. And Arwen is in Dol Amroth. It's a coastal city of Gondor ruled by the Prince of Dol Amroth. Currently Prince Imrahil.

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Fenn - Thanks! And it has been long established that I am very mean.

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Lali-chan - thank you! And who wouldn't want to conspire against Denethor? Not the easiest guy to work for I would imagine! And let us just say that Gandalf has his own Plan. Remember, he was one of the matchmaker conspirators before the whole One Ring debacle!

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Londaron of Erendaer - thanks! Yes, I think the Witch-King is definitely going to be in for a treat! Arwen could have sailed from anywhere down the coast. Boromir will show up soon. Hopefully somewhere unexpected. And yes, you are most certainly right. Sauron has something up his sleeve for the Pelennor. I cackle as I think about it and my muse is looking very smug….

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Lunawolf - thanks! And I presume you meant the happy ending?

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Mari - yes.

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Murdock Ran - Only one, non-scoobie, villain for the sequel. None in the First Knight story.

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Nessa Telemnar - hi and welcome! And thanks! And to answer your question, it was a vision of the possible future….

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00MandaGirl - welcome and thanks! And it is nice to know that some of what I have written happens in real life and not just in my twisted mind…

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Reyavie - thanks! And yes, Denethor's troubles are not over yet… and I can see why a statistics test makes you sadistic… I know the feeling well….

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Ringo's Wildrose - Sorry, but I have never seen that show. And Arwen is cooking up quite a bit…

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Selene - Soon!

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ShawThang - thanks! Yes, Arwen and Lothíriel will help Boromir. But not exactly in anyway he had planned…

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Siren's Call - thanks! An Elvish translator? Try the 'Sindarin dictionary'. You can download a whole dictionary of Elvish words. I do not know of anything that can translate sentences but it should get you started. Okay, to make the accents and characters, if you have Windows, use the character map. Select the letter you want and then paste it into your writing. Or you could just add it into Autocorrect in MS Word and Works so that it changes the word automatically as you type it. Hope that helps.

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Tenshikoneko03 - thank you! And Faramir's fate on that matter is in this chapter so I will not spoil the surprise. And no, Denethor does not know that Buffy is in line to be Queen yet. At the moment, Arwen is still in Dol Amroth, but she will show up in a battle.

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Tsuki no Yasha - thanks! Early birthday present? Why, is it your birthday? If so, happy birthday!

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Voldemort8 - Okay, first of all, in my fic, the Rings are sundered from the One now. Sauron cannot do a thing to them anymore. And even before they were sundered, Sauron could only control them if he had the One Ring in his possession. And Sauron knows that the Elven Rings are free since the display at Helms Deep. He just cannot do anything much about it yet. Except send some assassins. And no one actually knows what the Three Rings powers were as because they were linked to the One, no one could use them. So I took creative liberties. And fire as a destruction is not Sauron's power. Fire can warm and protect and soothe. Sauron polluted water from the Morgul vale. Does not mean that Galadriel's Ring is a perversion of Elven morals? It is not the power itself but how you use it that defines whether it is good or evil. And Denethor hardly snapped just because of Faramir. That was just when he totally gave into it. It had probably been encroaching upon him since he started playing with the palantír with the link to Barad-dûr.

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White-Witch-Sakura - thank you! And Aragorn will arrive during the Battle of the Pelennor fields.

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Willow Spirit - thanks! Lothíriel has a minor part in this story but a very big part in the sequel! So I hope I can flesh her character out sufficiently, since basically all we get is a name from Tolkien.

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And major thanks to:

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ainu lote, Ally, Duo Maxwell, goldenshadows, green falcon, hermoine21, homiedude, Iriel, Jaguarmoon, jumping-jo, Lady Meridia, life in SHREDS, Light Spinner, loki2525, SalanTrong, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Wild320, XinnLajgin,

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CHAPTER FIFTY: IN THE LINE OF FIRE

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Osgiliath, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 14.

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Osgiliath had fallen.

But even as they raced desperately towards the city, the sky was filled with the high pitched shrieks of the Nazgûl and they started to dart down between them, snatching men as they dived.

But what caused Buffy's blood to chill was not the Nazgûl, but the Black Captain. And as she looked above her, she saw the helmeted face, felt the powerful malice as it closed in on her.

The Witch-King had arrived….

And he was gunning for her….

Even as her horse reared in fear, Buffy knew that she had a limited amount of options.

Even from this distance, she could see a figure in white leaving the gates of the city and knew who it was - Gandalf. But if something did not happen soon, the Nazgûl would take a sizeable chunk of their forces before the wizard could reach them.

She had to do something.

She _really_ did not want to tell Boromir how she let a Nazgûl run off with his little brother… Besides, it was way past time to inject a little fear into these blasted Ringwraiths. - Slayer style.

She needed to buy them some time. And fast. Ducking down in the saddle as a man went flying overhead, knocked off his mount by a Nazgûl, she knew that it had to be now….

As the Witch-King closed in on her, she let her mount run free, trusting that fear would keep it on a straight course for the city, and as the Nazgûl's sword swung, she dived, grabbing his arm and using it as leverage to swing up onto the flying monster. The Witch-King turned in surprise and then lowered the monster into a sharp dive, trying to dislodge her.

It nearly worked.

Slipping, she barely managed to stop her fall by grabbing its tail, dangling precariously in the air. Seeing the Witch-King reach for her, she yanked herself up, inch by inch, and firmly perched herself on the back of the swooping and diving beast, she drew her sword.

Nearly dropping it in shock as flames engulfed the metal, running from the hilt to the tip of the sword, she stared at the Witch-king to see if it was his doing. It so obviously was not. He was staring at it in anger as well. And with one cold glance, he pulled his own sword, cold flames running along it as well.

Buffy cursed as she ducked under that blade, but she was not stupid enough to try a headlong attack when she knew that upon contact with a Nazgûl, most blades shattered and then there was the Black Breath - very unpleasant - and most importantly of all, this was a millennia old once-king who had magic. She would not make the mistake of letting him goad her into an attack.

Instead, watched him come closer and when his hands left the reins to swing the blade, she drove her own deep into the hide of the monster just as a glowing light started to reach for them, growing blindingly bright the closer it got.

As she had expected, the beast bucked and rolled in pain as she twisted her sword within its flesh and both she and the Witch-King were unhorsed as it rolled over in mid-air. The flames of her sword extinguishing Buffy plummeted through the air, unable to see anything due to the glowing light that was driving the beast away, she had only a few seconds to realise that that might not have been the best of plans before she impacted.

But it was not the hard ground that stopped her fall but a strong set of arms grabbing her as she fell. Jerking in the grasp, Buffy opened her eyes to make out Faramir's face. Wordlessly, he gestured for her to clamber on the back of his mount.

Seeing Gandalf, with Pippin as a passenger, leading the Men of Gondor back to the city, his staff glowing, she knew things were well in hand. Twisting her head, she could vaguely make out a black form tumbling along the ground as the beast crashed into the ground and inwardly rejoiced at the Witch-King's crash landing.

Seeing their leader's fall, the other Nazgûl who had drew away when Gandalf's staff had emitted the blinding light, went to his aid and Gandalf ignored their efforts as they passed through the Rammas Echor.

As the Witch-king rose to his feet, staring at them menacingly, Buffy knew that they had not seen anything yet….

****

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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 14.

As the gate crashed shut behind them, Faramir drew rein to face Gandalf so abruptly that the unprepared Buffy had to thank her lucky stars for her impeccable balance. As the wizard noticed him, he made his way over, seeing the man's anxious face.

Sensing that an almighty catch up session was about to get underway, Buffy hopped down from his horse and tried to sidle off but Gandalf's voice stopped her in her tracks. "And where do you think you are going, Dagnir?" Gandalf said, Pippin standing behind the horse, goggling at her, "What was that stunt you pulled?"

She tried to look innocent, but Gandalf did not seem the slightest bit fooled, "Um, just being a distraction," she said hurriedly, "But hey! Faramir here has something to say, so let's listen to him, okay?"

The glare she received let her know that the wizard knew exactly what she was up to, but Faramir was very glad to see him again. "Mithrandir, your presence here is welcome indeed!" he exclaimed, looking worried, "They broke through our defences. It is not good. They have taken the bridge and the west bank. The main road is blocked but battalions of orcs are still crossing the river. It has begun, Mithrandir…"

Around them, the mutters of the other soldiers seemed to have the same despairing mood, murmuring about how Lord Denethor had predicted this dark day. Gandalf looked very irritated by the talk and Buffy had to admit that she was too. Denethor might be good at moaning but he certainly was not going to get anything remotely useful done.

"Well, you may as well scrap the idea that your father is going to do anything helpful," Buffy said to Faramir, "I was once a soldier of Gondor and now that Denethor's been stupid enough not to give the army any decent instructions at all, I'm planning on taking over. You got any disagreements? Because, no offence to you, but I'm not letting Denethor run the city into an early grave."

But Faramir made no reply to her words. Instead, he was staring at Pippin in shock. Gandalf looked at the man intently, "Faramir?" he said quietly, "This is not the first halfling to have crossed your path, is it?" he questioned him.

Faramir's eyes snapped up to look at the wizard, seeing him make the effort to keep this discussion as quiet as possible. Slowly, he shook his head, "It is not."

As Buffy and Gandalf processed the implications, Pippin perked up, a smile crossing his face, "You have seen Frodo and Sam?" he asked excitedly, ignoring Gandalf's glare.

Faramir nodded and Gandalf leaned forward in his saddle, pouncing upon the captain, "Where? When?" he demanded impatiently, the anxiety clear to see.

Faramir did not seem surprised at the urgency, "In Ithilien, not two days ago. Do not fear, I know what they carry." he said quietly, "And they carry it still." He paused. "But Mithrandir, they have taken the road to the Morgul Vale."

Buffy and Gandalf blanched and Pippin looked between the three of them in puzzlement. "And from there the pass of Cirith Ungol?" he asked, the dread evident in his voice.

"Cirith Ungol?" Buffy repeated, "Oh please tell me that they're not going to be spider chow."

Faramir confirmed it silently and Pippin, growing increasingly worried, spoke up, "What does that mean? What is wrong? Gandalf, what is going on?"

But Gandalf could not give him the answers he wanted to hear so instead, the wizard dismounted at the same time as the captain and grabbed him by the arm, "Faramir," he said urgently, "Tell me everything."

Buffy could only place a hand on Pippin's shoulder in silent comfort.

****

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In a secluded room, with the door barred by Pippin, the wizard, slayer and captain faced each other.

"How were they?" Gandalf demanded as soon as they had attained privacy.

Faramir looked at him, "We found them in Ithilien, during a raid on some Southrons. They had a skulking creature with them. Frodo said that he was in his service. We took them to Henneth Annûn, which was where we captured… Gollum. They admitted that they had known Boromir and I questioned them on his death. And then I found out that they carried the One Ring. My father would have wished for me to bring it to him, and I confess that I wavered. But they left Henneth Annûn on my orders, with supplies, and they told me that they were going to Cirith Ungol and that it was Gollum that was to guide them there."

"Gandalf, what about Shelob?" Buffy asked, "She is such a nice, friendly, man-eating spider after all. Does she eat hobbit?"

"I think she eats anything," Gandalf replied worriedly, "And they knew nothing of the dangers?"

"I tried to warn them of their path," Faramir answered, "But they said that they had already tried the Morannon, and the way was blocked. They knew of no other."

"The Morannon? They got that far?" Buffy asked, "Apparently, they are more resourceful than we thought."

Before Faramir could make a reply, a knock came to the door, and then a man stuck his head in, "Lord Faramir," he said, "Your father requests your presence immediately."

Faramir looked at them apologetically, and left. As soon as the door was closed, Buffy grabbed Gandalf's arm, "Come on, we have to go."

"Go?" Gandalf repeated, "Go where?"

"To see a prince."

****

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Dol Amroth, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 14.

Proper protocol and royal dignity be damned, Lothíriel fumed. She had never thought that Elves could be so… so… well, _infuriating_…. It was enough to have her grinding her teeth with the effort to keep playing charming hostess and not shake the information out of the she-Elf, who was enjoying the whole predicament way too much for her tastes.

First, the daughter of Elrond shows up on her doorstep in the middle of the night, then she lets slip that her cousin, Boromir, was in fact alive. A fact that she still had not received an explanation about. And then she had kept to herself since then, smiling that thrice damned cryptic smile until Lothíriel just wished that she could do… something to her.

It was enough to strain anyone's nerves. Her father, who had the highest respect for the Elven race, had always told her that the Eldar saw things mortals did not. But Lothíriel was sure that he had never to deal with an Elf who took such impish _glee_ in vexing her. It was not to be borne. Add that to a rather worried Captain of the guards, who took delight in telling her that the Corsairs were raiding Gondor again, and that he feared the attack on the city of Minas Tirith was about to start, as well as a fussing lady-in-waiting, and a city full of people on edge, and 'twas safe to say that princess or no, Lothíriel's temper was frayed at best.

She deserved an explanation, not the same 'everything will become clear in time' nonsense that she had been getting recently. How was she to plan adequately when no one would tell her anything of use? Well, if Arwen Undómiel could be so bold as to flounce off around Middle Earth by herself, then Lothíriel of Dol Amroth could very well demand some answers.

Stalking into Arwen's room, she had the satisfaction of surprising the she-Elf, who seemed to be reading a letter of some sort. "Lady Arwen," she said silkily and saw the lady's eyes narrow in suspicion, "I truly do hope that you understand the predicament I am in," she began, eyes narrowed, "I do realise that most people will leave Elves to their own devices when they are plotting, but I have had enough of being kept in the dark. You cannot just march in here, demand hospitality and then tell me, calm as anything, that my dead cousin is suddenly not dead and still give me no reasons for it or proof of it. Now, at the moment, I care not who your father is, and so I say this to you, Lady Arwen, - tell me what madness is going on or I will have you thrown out of Dol Amroth. And with the Corsairs plaguing the coast, it would undoubtedly be an unpleasant experience."

For a moment, the Elleth simply stared at her and then she started laughing, a high tinkling laugh that had the swan princess trying not to grind her teeth together. "And what, pray tell, is so funny?" she said bitingly, one hand placed on her hip as grey eyes flashed in annoyance.

Arwen looked at her and calmed herself down, but she was still smiling in amusement, "Forgive me," she murmured, "But ai! 'Tis easy to see that you have a Wood Elf in your lineage! You have their temper Princess Lothíriel. I admit that I had wondered whether or not you would preserve decorum."

"How nice of you…." Lothíriel said stiffly, "But I do not know what relevance a Wood Elf has in this conversation. Are you going to explain yourself or not?"

Arwen looked at the fuming young woman, and knew that she could be trusted. She would have to introduce Lothíriel and Buffy to each other. No doubt they would take to each other like old friends. "Of course," she agreed, "Sit. It is a long explanation."

Lothíriel sat stiffly, looking at the Evenstar expectantly. Arwen held back a sigh as she pondered where to start. "I confess that I do not know where to begin," she said, "Perhaps if you asked your most pressing question, we could start from there?"

The princess did not hesitate, "What do you mean when you say that Boromir is alive? We had reports from the capital that they had found proof of his fall."

"You could say that Boromir owes his life to a valiant Dwarf and a lady." Arwen explained, "Boromir was camped at Parth Galen with several others when Uruk-hai attacked. He defended two of his companions but the numbers of the enemy were too great. He was pierced with an arrow and fell over the cliff into the Falls of Rauros. It was a near miracle that he survived the fall but two of his companions - the Dwarf and the lady - rescued him from the water and knowing that the Enemy hunted him, sent him back to my grandmother's wood of Lothlórien to see to his wounds. They let the others in the group believe he was dead to ensure his safety."

Lothíriel blinked, "They faked his death?" she repeated incredulously, "And I know the race of Dwarves is hearty, but Boromir was no small man. If he fell into Rauros, then not even a woman and a Dwarf together could have pulled him out against the current."

"In normal circumstances, aye," Arwen said, "But the lady was no ordinary woman. She is a trained warrior and she dragged your cousin to safety."

Lothíriel was still dubious, "And yet you are careful not to refer to her by name," she said pointedly, "If the tale is truth, then why hide the identity of his saviour?"

"Her name is not a problem for me to tell you," Arwen replied, "In fact, she is part of the reason I am come here." The Evenstar rose and crossed the room to her light pack and after a moment, pulled out a bolt of cloth, rolled and bound.

Unfolding it, she turned it so that Lothíriel could see the dark cloth, embroidered with a golden sun, in what looked to be thread of gold. It was beautifully rendered but what caught Lothíriel's eye was the image of a flowering tree done in silver underneath. She knew that symbol, though she was used to seeing it in white. 'Twas the White Tree of Gondor…. The symbol of the long dead Kings and their families….

"Where did you get that!" Lothíriel demanded, rising to her feet, "That is the White Tree! No one uses that symbol anymore!"

"But they do," Arwen said firmly, her eyes pinning Lothíriel's gaze to hers, "Long has my family guarded and fostered the heirs of Isildur, since the North Kingdom fell. And there is one who comes to claim the throne, the true King of Gondor."

The swan princess gaped, "But the line of kings is dead!" she exclaimed.

"Hidden, but never dead," Arwen explained, "The line passed down from father to son in a direct line. There is one heir left, a good man. And he comes. I know him well, he was my foster brother. I assure you it is quite true. But he will not come for a while yet, we have a few days. And I would rather enlighten you about someone else, than Aragorn, son of Arathorn, for now. You will have time to learn of him. Aragorn's lady, the one for whom this banner was made and the one who fished your cousin from the water, now resides in Minas Tirith to help with the defence of the city. Her name is Buffy and I have come to help both her and your cousins."

Lothíriel placed a hand to her suddenly aching head, "Let me understand this. You say that a king is returning to the throne of Gondor and that his lady, the future _Queen_, is in the city that is about to be battered relentlessly by the Dark Lord's forces until it falls?"

Arwen gave her a small smile, "That would be the brief version, yes."

"By the stars!" Lothíriel groaned, "And do I have your word that what you have told me is true?"

"I swear on my grandfather's star that I have not told you a word untrue." Arwen said quietly.

Lothíriel sat down heavily, "And what has Boromir to do with this?" she asked, having recovered some of her composure.

"He will be pivotal in the defence of the city," Arwen said strongly, "Once he knows what he is to do anyway. As does his brother. But that is in the future and I cannot say much of it for fear of the consequences. However, I would ask your help and your discretion."

As Lothíriel pondered her words, Arwen felt that familiar flash of foresight. Apparently, Lothíriel's temper would be fearsome indeed. Pushing the flash out of her head, she listened as Lothíriel answered.

"You have what help I can give, Arwen Undómiel," she said slowly, "But I demand to know the details of this plan."

Arwen smiled with hidden relief, she really had not fancied such an undignified leave-taking of Dol Amroth. "Then let us talk of plans…" she said and began the discussion that would enthral them both…

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"You would conspire behind my back with those two traitors?" Denethor said with cold fury, eyeing his youngest son, "Have you no loyalty?"

"They wish only to help Gondor," Faramir said levelly, "We are not so secure of victory as to turn away help. Whatever personal differences you have, you must acknowledge that they could do much against the coming invasion."

"Do much?" Denethor barked, laughing coldly, "Ah yes, I would imagine so. They would do much to supplant me with a pretender, to give the throne to some wild man from the north. Yes, they would do much and none of it good."

"It is not our charge to ignore the coming of one with a claim," Faramir said, "The stewards swore to serve the city in this way."

"Did they not also swear to safeguard it?" Denethor said, "And yet, my son, my own flesh and blood, has the chance to hold victory in our grasp and lets it slip away."

Faramir looked at him in startlement. "Ah, did that wizard tell you to keep this knowledge to yourself? Away from even your own lord?" Denethor said sharply, "Do not think I do not see. I see everything…. How could you let the Ring slip out of my grasp? The One Ring… the thing that would have turned the tide in our favour. And yet you brought me no boon, only news that Osgiliath has fallen due to your incompetence. _This_ is how you would serve your city? You would risk its utter ruin?"

Faramir eyed his father warily but held his ground, "I did what I judged to be right." he said quietly, offering no excuse for his actions. He would stand by his choice.

Denethor looked at him in contempt, "What you judged to be right…" he repeated scornfully, "Long have I wondered if you had any wits at all, and this judgement proves that you have none at all! You have sent the Ring of Power into Mordor, in the hands of a witless halfling! What fool would think they had any chance of keeping it away from the Dark Lord? And yet, you let them go. It was within your power to take it and you let them go…. It should have been brought back to the citadel to be kept safe! Hidden from all in the dark and deep places of the vaults. Not to be used. Unless at the uttermost end of need."

Faramir did not flinch under the endless criticism and scorn, "I would not use the Ring." he said firmly, "Not if Minas Tirith were falling in ruin and I alone could save her. Its only purpose is destruction and darkness. If it had been used to save Minas Tirith, you would have seen her crash around your ears as the Ring's power corrupted everything. The old records confirm this. It drove Isildur to his death. It will do the same to any other."

Denethor looked at him coldly; "Ever you desire to appear lordly and gracious, as a king of old." he scoffed, eyes boring into his son's, "Boromir would have remembered his father's need. He would have brought me a kingly gift... But then, he was always your better."

Faramir hid the hurt the words caused him, and shook his head slowly, remembering Sam's words. '_The Ring drove your brother mad_!' No, Boromir would not. For its claim on him had already caused his death. "Boromir would not have brought the Ring." Faramir said softly, "He would have stretched out his hand to this thing and taken it. And in doing so, he would have fallen. Just like everyone else who tried to have it for their own."

Denethor glared at him, "You know nothing of this matter." he spat, "You always put too much weight in the words of wizards and never bothered to see the reality. It is only a ruse so that no man grows more powerful than they."

Faramir did not falter, "He would have kept it for his own. And when he returned, you would not have known your own son. He would have been lost to you, at your own whim."

Denethor would hear no more slander against his favourite son and he stood up in rage, advancing on Faramir. "Boromir was loyal to me! Not some wizard's pupil!"

For a moment, it seemed as if he would strike him, but then he subsided and settled for snarling at Faramir. "Get out of my sight," the steward spat at last, "You disgust me."

Silently, the captain left, leaving the steward to sink back in his chair and lust for what should have been.

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As Faramir was being verbally abused by Denethor in the citadel, Buffy, Gandalf, Imrahil and Pippin were discussing plans. Or rather, three were discussing and Pippin was watching.

Imrahil had no good news for them. "While you were gone, we received troubling news. It goes very ill," he explained to the slayer and the wizard, "While you were in Osgiliath and Gandalf was… indisposed, a messenger came with news of Cair Andros." He said, pointing out its position on the map, "The isle has fallen. Another army is come from the Black Gate, crossing from the northeast. The Enemy has us pinned in. I do not see how Rohan could come even if they were asked."

Gandalf waved a hand in dismissal, "Do not fear Imrahil, they will come," he said, "The only question is will they be in time?"

"They won't," Buffy said, "It'll take Éomer a while to muster his riders and then days to get here, even if they ride through the night. They will not be in time. Sauron's forces are already overrunning Osgiliath. They'll fill the Pelennor and block the city off, from either escape or rescue."

"But Denethor has not asked for their aid," Imrahil said in puzzlement, "How do they know to come? We recently received word that Théoden King had had a battle against Saruman at Helms Deep. Though whether it was won or lost I have not heard."

"Well, it was won but Théoden King died there," Buffy said quietly, "His nephew, Éomer, is the new king. And let's just say that they were asked very nicely by a wizard and a ranger. After all, if we left it to Denethor, he just might call for them in a hundred years or so."

"This is all well and good," Gandalf harrumphed in what Buffy liked to call pipeweed withdrawal crankiness, "But we have a city to defend. Rohan will come. Let us ensure that Minas Tirith is still standing when they get here."

"We have not the numbers to meet the Enemy," Imrahil said, "Our only hope is to last out the siege until help comes or we can fight no more."

"Well, that's cheerful," Buffy said, "But then again, this isn't exactly a great situation. Basically, we have got an army coming against us that you estimate is well over a hundred thousand strong, which is bad in of itself, but the re-emergence of the Corsairs has drawn off all the help you expected from the fiefdoms. Again, very bad. Next, we have the Nazgûl on our doorstep, led by the charming Witch-King, who seems the type to bear a grudge. And to top it all off, Denethor has nothing prepared for the war, siege or battle of any description and since the orcs are already coming across the river at Osgiliath, we are running out of time. That about sum it up?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Imrahil said wryly.

"I'm open to suggestions people," Buffy said, looking between the wizard, man and hobbit. "Because as nice as those catapults are, I don't think they are going to be anywhere near enough."

Imrahil looked at her appraisingly, "Station the men as you see fit," he said after a moment, "Sauron expects us to use our traditional methods. But somehow, I do not think he could expect you. I heard how you handled the Witch-king…."

"Is that your way of telling me that I'm unpredictable or crazy?" Buffy asked, only mildly offended.

"Both," he replied causing both hobbit and wizard to snigger.

She glared at the duo, "Fine, crazy it is then." She looked at the chortling wizard, "I'll go to the garrison, find the captain of this mess, and try to station the men without Denethor interfering. On that note, feel free to club him if he's being uncooperative, disruptive, annoying or all of the above."

She made to leave but Imrahil called her name and stopped her in her tracks. "Wait!" he said, opening the door and gesturing at two Citadel guards outside it, who stood to attention at his appearance, "These soldiers will watch your back, milady."

Buffy got that familiar sinking feeling in her stomach, and her narrowed eyes shot between Gandalf and Imrahil, "Milady?" she repeated, "Watch my back? Who put you up to this?" she demanded.

Imrahil's eyes flickered towards Gandalf for the barest of seconds. Gritting her teeth, she glared at the wizard. What was he up to now? "What did he say to you?" she asked Imrahil, in a voice filled with warning.

"He told me of your connection to Lord Aragorn, lady," Imrahil replied, "After that, I knew I could not let you wander around the city without some guard. It would not be proper."

"Well, I never did give a damn about proper," Buffy ground out, "And from now on, you get your information from me, not some meddling wizard who is very soon going to lose his beard if I have any say in it."

Pippin goggled at the scene, "Buffy and…. Aragorn?" he said, after listening to the surreal conversation, "I knew it!" he exclaimed, causing Buffy's molten glare to transfer to him. "Oh Sam owes me a bag of Longbottom leaf now!" he crowed.

Gandalf just smirked, "It would seem, that on this count at least, Dagnir, you lose."

As Buffy stalked out the door, she pointed a finger at the smug Istar, and said deadly serious, "I am going to get you back for this you know. And I spent time with Legolas and the twins!"

His only response was laughter.

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Faramir held himself still as the young hobbit swore fealty to his father. However, the dark gaze of the steward landed on him often, even if he tried to ignore it.

And then, as he had expected, Denethor pounced, "I do not think we should so lightly abandon the outer defences." he said testingly, "Defences that your brother long held intact." There was no mistaking the censure in the tone.

But Faramir forced himself not to react. Years of dealing with his father's barbs enabled him to look impassive. "Then what would you have me do, my lord?" he asked.

Denethor's glare tried to bore through him, but its intensity lay in madness and hate, "I will not yield the river and Pelennor unfought. Osgiliath must be retaken." he said. "I will not yield anything to Mordor!"

Faramir blinked rapidly. Surely his father was not suggesting what he thought he was… "My Lord," he said carefully, "Osgiliath is overrun. It cannot be reclaimed now."

Denethor would not be swayed, "Much must be risked in war. Is there a captain here who still has the courage to do his lord's will? Or are you as much of a coward as I have always suspected? If Boromir were here, Osgiliath would still be mine."

Faramir reeled under the unmasked venom in his father's voice and expression. And suddenly what he had always feared but never voiced was confirmed. "You wish now that our places had been exchanged." he said, voice breaking, "That I had died and Boromir had lived."

Denethor was impassive in the face of his younger son's pain, "Yes, I wish that." he said harshly, "The one I love dies and the failure is all that remains. Who would not wish that?"

Faramir suppressed his own pain, unwilling to show any more weakness in front of this man who suddenly seemed a stranger, and knew what he had to do, what he had been commanded to do. "Since you are robbed of Boromir, I will do what I can in his stead."

"You could never fill his place," Denethor said callously, "But mayhap, you might do one thing right for a change."

Faramir bowed and made to leave, hurt at his father's knowing rejection burning fiercely, "If I should return, think better of me, father…." he said in parting.

Denethor just looked at him, as cold and immovable as ice, and there was nothing but hate in his eyes, "That will depend on the manner of your return."

Straightening his back, Faramir left and did not look back.

There was nothing left for him there anymore.

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Naturally, when Buffy first got wind of Denethor's mad idea, she immediately headed to Faramir's quarters, where he was readying himself for the insane excursion his father had commanded. From the expressions of the two very unwelcome solders tailing her, they did not particularly like the steward's latest escapade either.

Barging into the man's quarters, she neatly barred the entrance with the for once useful soldiers and then stomped up to the wary Faramir. "What do you think you are playing at?" she demanded, jabbing the point of her finger into his chest, "This whole idea is suicide! Are you really going to just go out there and die because he told you to?"

"Is that not what soldiers do when their lords command them so?" Faramir replied steadily, "Where does my allegiance lie, if not here? This is the city of the Men of Númenor. I would gladly give my life to defend her beauty, her memory, and her wisdom."

"That's touching, really," Buffy said, determined to sway him from this course, "But Denethor is mad. It is one thing to die for something worthwhile. It is quite another to die for nothing. Trust me, I so know that. If you go out there, what in the name of Udûn do you think you are going to accomplish? They outnumber you by how many thousand to one? Look, if it's Minas Tirith that you want to protect, fine, I'm okay with that. But if you think you can do it by going out on this insane charge, you're wrong. You're only going to get yourself and your men killed. Is that what you want?"

"I am honour bound to do as I am bid," Faramir said, voice and expression stony. "I have my orders and I will follow them. To whatever end."

"Then why didn't you give Denethor the One Ring, Faramir?" Buffy asked pointedly, "Why did you ignore your father's desires then? Because you could not trust him to do what was right. Do you really think that your death is going to be helpful? This city is going to come under siege and it needs every able bodied person, let alone captains, to make sure that the orcs stay outside of these walls. I know that your father is an ass, and that he thinks you never measured up. But do you really think Boromir would have acted this insane either? Stop feeling the hurt of his words, and start thinking clearly. Do not throw away your life so rashly! Come to your senses and see what really has to be done, not what he says has to be done."

"It is not your decision."

"Do not even think of playing that card with me, Faramir," Buffy said sharply, "You think I don't have authority. Imrahil seems to think otherwise. You are _not_ riding off to Osgiliath. The city is lost. Do not throw away your life on a lost cause. You saw what the situation was. We were lucky to escape once. You go in again, and you are going to die. Probably painfully."

"I will not hide from my fate," the man replied firmly, "I cannot do that."

"Eru! No one is asking you to hide!" Buffy exclaimed in exasperation, "I'm only asking you to use your head and see that you're needed here. Do not make me kick your ass. 'Cos if I have to get you thrown in the dungeons to save your life, I will. Don't think otherwise."

He looked into the hard hazel eyes, and knew that she meant every word she said. Reluctantly, he nodded. "As you command, lady." he said, causing her to sigh in relief, "I will, however, check on the Rammas Echor. The men have been pulled back from it and I want to know how much time we have before they take the Pelennor."

Buffy looked out of the windows, her sharp sight seeing the faint shapes of the massive combat and siege towers being pushed across from Osgiliath. They did not have much time, she knew.

However, it was a better idea than leaving go on a suicide charge. "Okay, agreed." she relented, "But reconnaissance only. I will kick your ass if I hear of any stupid unnecessary heroism. Got it?"

"Perfectly," he replied, keeping a straight face and grabbing his saddle pack, he left the room, the men on the doors leaving him pass.

Buffy looked out the window once more, and suppressed a faint shudder.

She could already hear the drums….

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Dunharrow, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 14.

Though he was no stranger to campaigns of war, the Dunlendings always being a threat to the Riddermark, the sight of the many hundreds of tents, filled with riders come at his bidding, sent the first frisson of fear down Éomer's spine.

He did not ridicule himself for it. The man who felt no fear at the battle of the age was a fool indeed. Composing himself, he saw one of his captains waiting for him. "Grimbold," he greeted, "How many?" he asked.

"I bring five hundred Men from the Westfold, my Lord." the man answered. Éomer suppressed a grimace. Only five hundred from the Westfold. He had expected four times that number.

"What about the riders from Snowbourn?" he asked, hoping for a better answer.

"None have come, my Lord." Grimbold replied. Éomer wondered where they could be, and if anything had happened to them that he had not yet heard of. Beside him, Aragorn seemed to be thinking much the same.

From captain to captain, he went, getting numbers and estimates. And when he had them gathered, he talked to Aragorn, valuing the older man's experience.

"Only six thousand spears have come," he said, "'Tis less than half of what I had hoped for."

Aragorn's gaze met his unflinchingly, though his mood had been dark since Buffy's departure, "Six thousand will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor." he said levelly, judging Éomer's reaction.

The new king nodded. He had already known that. "More will come." he said with hope, "And if not, six thousand will have to break through."

Aragorn nodded solemnly, "We must make speed," he said, "Every hour lost hastens Gondor's defeat. We have until dawn, and then we must ride. Or else Gondor is lost."

"I had hoped for the full Éoherë," Éomer admitted, "But with time so short, it will be nigh on impossible. The Oath of Eorl will be honoured, Aragorn. We do this for both our lands. And hope that it is enough."

Before Aragorn could reply, Gamling came up to his liege, "My lord," he said, "Haldir of Lórien has been sent back to Dwimordene, with a small escort of his own people. They would not stay in the shadow of the mountain."

"Think you that his own people will be able to help with his affliction?" Éomer asked curiously.

"Lady Galadriel is one of the most talented of the Elves on this side of the Sundering Sea," Aragorn replied, "But no Elf on these shores can repair the damage to his arm. It was simply too great."

"I am saddened to hear it," Éomer said sincerely, "He came when he did not have to and he fought valiantly. But why would they not stay in the shadow of the Dimholt? I have not seen it discomfort Legolas and thought that Elves did not fear it like mortal men."

"Legolas's home is Mirkwood," Aragorn explained quietly, "And Dol Guldur has been a thorn in its side for many centuries. He fears no ghosts of men." As Aragorn spoke, he could have sworn that he saw green smoke-lie shadows around the entrance, the door into the mountain, and he stared at it.

Éomer followed his gaze but saw nothing out of the ordinary, "Aragorn?" he said with concern, "Are you well?"

Aragorn dragged his gaze away from the mountain, "Aye, I am fine, Éomer," he replied. But as the young king drifted away to check on his sister, Aragorn could have sworn that he heard a voice echo in his mind, from the mountain. 'Who shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead?…. Do you dare?….'

Spine stiffening, he turned away from the mountain and so failed to see the wisps of hazy green smoke reappear….

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A/N: So? What do you think! Feedback please! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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Next chapter: Aragorn meets some interfering relations…. And some rather unwelcoming ghosts… Éowyn's Plan is in action… and so is Galadriel's…. And we catch up with Boromir….

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Elvish:

Undómiel - Evenstar

Elleth - she-Elf

Dagnir - slayer

Mithrandir - Grey Pilgrim

Istar - wizard

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Cirith Ungol - Translates as 'Spider's Cleft'. The name was lent not only to the pass but to the fortress that guarded it as well. Cirith Ungol was a fortress unto its own. The Tower of Cirith Ungol, was a stronghold made by the Men of Gondor after the Last Alliance to keep watch on Mordor but Mordor took it over.

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Dol Amroth - the royalty of Dol Amroth are believed to have an Elven foremother in their line. Stronghold of Gondor on Belfalas, named after Amroth King of Lórien (deceased.).

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Dunharrow - Fortified refuge in the Ered Nimrais. It is the mountain refuge of the people of Rohan. And the entrance to the Paths of the Dead is there.

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Dwimordene - the name in Rohan for the Golden Wood of Lothlórien. It has generally been villainised by superstition, old wives' and soldiers' tales of the Lady who dwells there, and how she weaves her spells with sorcerers and net-weavers. All completely untrue, but none of the Rohirrim have ever gone near the Wood and they fear it.

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Eärendil - Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth.

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Éoherë - term used by the Rohirrim for the full muster of their cavalry.

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Henneth Annûn - 'Window of the Sunset'. name of a cave behind a waterfall in Ithilien.

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Imrahil - Prince of Dol Amroth at the time of the War of the Ring. The line of the Princes of Dol Amroth is said to be of Elvish descent, a foremother being a Silvan Elf and a handmaiden of the Elleth Nimrodel of Lórien. Father of Lothíriel. Denethor's brother-in-law. Uncle to Faramir and Boromir.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Ithilien - territory of Gondor, east of Anduin. In the earliest time the possession of Isildur and ruled from Minas Ithil.

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Lothíriel - daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth.

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Morannon - The Black Gate of Mordor.

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Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.

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Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

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Palantír - one of the seven seeing stones that were scattered throughout Gondor and Arnor during the reign of Elendil. For the last few centuries, they have been considered unsafe to use as it is believed that one of them is in the possession of Sauron.

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Parth Galen - 'Green Sward'.

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Pelennor fields - 'Fenced Land'. The 'town lands' of Minas Tirith. Guarded by the wall of Rammas Echor.

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Rammas Echor - out-wall. For ten leagues or so it ran, from the mountains' feet and back again, enclosing in its fence the fields of the Pelennor.

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Ring of Barahir - Heirloom of the House of Isildur.

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The Citadel - the High Court. The Place of the Fountain beneath the feet of the White Tower.

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«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	51. Family Blues

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: I am back! The exams are FINALLY over! Yay! (FYI, I think they gave me carpel tunnel syndrome from over-writing!) I cannot tell you how happy I am. And so I am back. And on summer holidays. Which means time to write. Updates will be back as scheduled, and I might try to get them up sooner than a week's gap.

Another milestone! This story has now passed the four hundred thousand word mark!

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Review responses:

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Aleviel - thanks. I think.

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Allen Pitt - spot on, my friend! Spot on! You have found a subplot!

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Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - soon. And he makes another appearance in this chapter!

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Arcrose - thank you! Yeah, I never fully agreed with Faramir's little suicide charge. Especially considering how totally hopeless it looked in the movie. And the twins are back! About the Witch-king, I kinda have a few more uses for him before we can get to the killing.

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BuffyandDracoLover - soon enough!

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ChibiChibi - thanks! Updates on Boromir in this chapter! Paths of the Dead are also up. However, I'm not saying anything with regards to Faramir.

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D347hbyp45510n - thank you! No, Elrond will not make a personal appearance. Éowyn and Merry are up in this chapter.

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Dreamzone - thank you! And welcome! Okay, I have freely admitted that I am Evil and that I love cliffhangers and foreboding sentences! They are pretty much part of the story now!

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EoSpHoRuS - thanks! I greatly appreciate all comments made on this story. - They make me go all giddy and happy and well, hyperactive.

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EverAfter-01 - very good - and ominous - summary.

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Lali-chan - thanks! And considering the litany I have planned for him, yes, fear for Faramir. And don't I just love complicated! And I'm nowhere near done yet! And your vote is acknowledged but let's just say that I have a rather spectacular end for him. Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn are in this chapter. I realise last chapter had a Buffy/Minas Tirith focus but this one has more of an Aragorn focus to make up. And the twins have arrived!

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Mari - thank you! And Buffy has more escape holes than you think. Very creative that one. And maybe the necklace is the cause of the problems? And please, Arwen is sister to the twins. Of course she loves vexing people! And no, I have a more evil way to deal with Denethor.

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MousXart - thanks! And you have my sympathies!

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Reyavie - thanks! And it's okay, I hate Denethor too. Why do you think I write him so unsympathetically!

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Santos Black - thanks and welcome! And yes, I am very partial to sarcastic Legolas. Or sarcastic characters in general!

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ShawThang - wow! Thanks! Boromir is featuring in this chapter!

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Star - thanks! And I personally really like Faramir!

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Talina - GCSE'S? Ouch. As a veteran of the Leaving Cert, you have my deepest sympathies. Faramir - lots of pain in future. Éowyn - destiny to fulfil.

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Tenshikoneko03 - interesting death scenario. But have my own I am afraid… and no, Faramir is not going to single-handedly try to take back Osgiliath. And you're close with the interfering relations, but it's double trouble!

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The Great and Powerful Oz - wow! Thank you! Give me your soul? Sorry, I am not collecting them yet. However, my muse is always willing! Yes, Buffy will face off with Denethor again, to the detriment of them both. And Boromir will be discovered in a major battle.

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XinnLajgin - depends on your definition of stupid. And Buffy is a little distracted at the moment to worry about killing Gandalf over her new 'Queen to be' status.

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And major thanks to:

Athene Saile, Azraeos, Becky, CharmingStar, FairyQuilan, goldenshadows, homiedude, jumping-jo, Just call me Blue, Lady Meridia, life in SHREDS, Light Spinner, Selene, Tarren, tdk99992000, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Wild320,

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CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE: FAMILY BLUES

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Dunharrow, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 14. - Night.

When the faint sound of cloth rustling reached his ears, Aragorn spun awake, sword out to face the surprised Rohirrim soldier holding the tent flap ajar. The man gulped nervously even as Aragorn slowly lowered his blade, "Um, the king asks for your presence, my lord." he stammered out after a tense minute.

Silently, Aragorn nodded and grabbed his jacket even as the soldier gladly left the vicinity. Belting on his sword belt, his swift, steady strides soon carried him across the camp, over to where Éomer stood with Gamling and Elfhelm, deep in discussion. Seeing the worried faces of the captains and the carefully blank face of Éomer, he approached them. "What is the matter?"

"There are horsemen approaching at a swift pace," Elfhelm said tightly after a nod from Éomer, "The scouts say that they are riding hard, and he cannot recognise their gear, save that they are not from Rohan nor Gondor. We cannot yet tell whether they be foes or not."

"They are coming here?" Aragorn asked.

"Yes," Éomer replied, "And I have riders ringing the entrance. If their errand is ill, they will find the arrows of Rohan turned against them." As he spoke, Gimli puffed his way over to them, discarding the ash from his pipe and the faintly glowing form of Legolas could be seen standing in the darkness.

"There are perhaps thirty or more riders," the Elf said after a moment, answering Aragorn's silent question, but to the man's surprise, a small smirk twitched at the corners of his lips. "But mayhap Aragorn would be better able to tell us of their intent?"

"What do you mean?" Éomer demanded, turning to the bemused ranger. "Do you know them?"

"He does," Legolas replied cryptically to Aragorn's consternation.

"Will you just tell us what you know Legolas?" Aragorn said crossly, "I am not in the mood to play Elvish riddles at this hour of the night."

"A pity," Legolas said calmly, and Aragorn swore that he could almost hear the smirk in his friend's voice, "Because it seems that Elvish riddles are soon to be the least of your worries."

A sinking suspicion developed in Aragorn's gut, but no, it just was not possible. Even Elrond could not be that cruel…. "Who Greenleaf?"

"'Tis of no matter," Legolas said, "They are here."

Even as the ranks of the Rohirrim closed in about them, arrows notched to their bows, the group of strange riders drew rein. Éomer stepped forward with a glare, despite Elfhelm's hiss of irritation at his liege's reckless behaviour, "Who rides through Rohan without leave? Who are you? And what is your haste?"

A man at the front dismounted under careful watch, "I am Halbarad Dúnadan, Ranger of the North," he answered, "We seek one Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and we heard that he was in Rohan."

At the voice and the name, Aragorn smiled in unabashed joy, "And you have found him!" he cried, seeing one of his best friends, and running forward and embracing the ranger. "Halbarad!" he said, holding the other man by the shoulders, "Of all joys this is the least expected."

"Estel," a disappointed voice said just as a hand landed on his own shoulder, causing him to freeze up, "How rude of you…"

"Not bothering to greet your own brothers," a second lilting voice continued, the unconcealed mischief sending a shiver down the man's spine. "For shame, Estel."

Slowly, he looked at the two he knew he would find, "Elladan, Elrohir," he said levelly, "What in Eru's name are you terrors doing here?"

"That is not an improvement, muindor," Elladan admonished, "Really! A few months in the wilds and he is an uncouth ranger again."

Aragorn glared at Halbarad who shrugged apologetically, "I have thirty with me," he said, "That is all of our kindred that could be gathered in haste; but the brethren Elladan and Elrohir have ridden with us, desiring to go to war. We rode as swiftly as we might when your summons came."

"But I did not summon you," Aragorn answered in puzzlement, "Save only in wish. My thoughts have often turned to you, and seldom more than tonight; yet I have sent no word. Who sent for you?"

"The brethren said that 'twas you." Halbarad replied.

Aragorn nodded, "And you believed them? I do not blame you. They have the art of mischief down to a fine form. Still, other matters now call our attention." Turning to the rather puzzled horse lord, he said, "Éomer King, may I introduce my kinsmen, Elladan and Elrohir, sons of Elrond of Rivendell and Halbarad of the Dúnedain."

As the horse lord had seen the way that Gimli had coloured and then blanched as the twin Elves snuck up on Aragorn, whereas Legolas has merely smirked through it all, he felt he had a right to be wary. Still, rangers were rangers, and any men were welcome in these dark times. "Since they are your kin, Aragorn, then they are welcome. However, I know not whether I should be grateful or wary."

"Wise man," Gimli muttered, glaring violently at the two dark-haired Elves, who smirked promisingly back at him.

Aragorn's long suffering look told the young king all, and he cautiously studied the twins, who seemed to be trying to look innocent, "Then what is your errand?" he said, asking the pressing question, "Why come you here to Aragorn if he did not ask you?"

The identical Elf-lords shared a meaningful look, "We only answered the summons," one replied, "Word came to Rivendell, a note that said '_Aragorn has need of his kindred. Let the Dúnedain ride to him in Rohan!'_ And so we come to our brother bearing news and counsel, to remind him of his path."

"One that lies not with me?" Éomer surmised at their tone. When none replied, the young king sighed, "The hour is late, and much work lies ahead in the morn. Speak to your brother then, just tell me what you have decided ere you do anything."

The twins seemed to look at the Horse-lord with some new respect. They had obviously not expected him to see or acknowledge the undercurrents of tension between them and their mortal brother. "As you command, lord." Elladan said and Éomer and his advisors left, the ring of Rohirrim soldiers drifting away.

The twins wasted no time. While Gimli was taken aback as they unceremoniously hauled the ranger away, Legolas did not look the least bit surprised. Gimli gave him a considering look, "What are they up to now, squirrel?" he asked gruffly.

But the cursed Elf only smiled, or rather smirked, enigmatically, "I think even the Valar themselves would not want to know," he replied, "Just pity Aragorn, Master Dwarf."

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Aragorn found himself brusquely dumped on his bedroll inside his tent with one twin standing over him and the other closing the tent flaps.

Very annoyed, he pushed himself to his feet and glared at them. "What was that for?" he demanded.

"Oh shush Estel," Elladan said, waving his hand in dismissal of the admittedly fun act of dumping their foster brother on his ass, "You have more important things to worry about?"

"More important than insane family members?" Aragorn said dryly, "Lucky me."

Elrohir gave his little brother a placating look, "We do not jest, Aragorn. The time has come for you to choose your path. You have set yourself upon it already but now is the time to do your duty, to reclaim what is yours."

Elladan nodded in agreement, pulling out a roll of parchment from inside his cloak, "Our father sent this word," he said, handing the roll to the ranger, "To bid you remember the words of the seer, and the Paths of the Dead."

Aragorn started at the words, fingers tightening their grip on the parchment as he remembered ghostly words and green smoke. He did not need to be reminded of the danger.

Unfolding the parchment, he saw the words written on it, in Elrond's flowing hand. There were no missives, only what he had half expected to see.

'_Elessar_,' it began,

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'Thus spoke Malbeth the Seer, in the days of Ardevui, last King of Fornost, - know his words for their meaning.

Over the land there lies a long shadow Westward reaching wings of darkness, The Tower trembles; to the tombs of kings Doom approaches. The Dead awaken; For the hour is come for the oath breakers; At the Stone of Erech they shall stand again, And hear there a horn in the hills ringing. Whose shall the horn be? Who shall call them From the grey twilight, the forgotten people? The heir of him to whom the oath they swore. From the North shall he come, need shall drive him; He shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead.'

Aragorn shakily closed the letter. He knew what Elrond wanted him to do. "Did he say ought else?" he asked, voice steady.

"He said that you ride to war, but not yet to victory." Elrohir said softly, "He has seen something of import. As you know, Sauron's armies march on Minas Tirith and we must place our trust in Gandalf and Buffy, that they can hold the White City. But adar has seen that, in secret, the Dark Lord sends another force to attack from the river and so overwhelm the city. Aragorn, a fleet of Corsair ships sails from the south. They will arrive in two days. And if they succeed, the numbers against Minas Tirith will be so great that they will not be able to hold. Even if the Rohirrim get there in time, there will not be a city left to save because the Corsairs will get there first. You are outnumbered and racing against time. You need more men and a faster way to the city."

Aragorn's face was steady even if inside, he was reeling. Two armies? The odds had just gone from bad to near impossible. "There are no more." he said quietly, "This is all the men that can be mustered."

Elladan looked at the parchment in Aragorn's clenched hand, "There are more," he said meaningfully, "There are those who dwell in the mountain. They will come if you call."

Aragorn again heard the echoing voice in his head, '_Who shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead?…. Do you dare, ranger?…._' He suppressed it viciously, "They are murderers and traitors." he pointed out levelly, "Centuries ago, they reneged on their sworn oath. Cursed though they may be, what makes you think they would even answer? Call upon them to fight? They believe in nothing, in no one. They will not answer."

"It is because they reneged in the past that you have your power, Elessar," Elrohir replied, stressing the name he would take if he became king, "They will answer to the King of Gondor. They have no choice. 'Twas Isildur's curse. Use Andúril, Elessar."

Elladan backed his brother up, "You wield the Blade That Was Broken, Muindor. The man who can wield this sword can summon to him an army more deadly than any that walks this earth. I know this goes against what you want. But if you do not become who you were born to me, the White City falls. And how long do you think Middle Earth will stand then? Rohan cannot stand another attack. War already marches on all the Elven and Dwarvish lands."

"The battle that could decide the course of this war will be fought in Minas Tirith," Elrohir added, "Your destiny awaits, brother. Do what you know is right. Take the Dimholt road. Take the Paths of the Dead."

Aragorn was silent for a long while, thinking of the promise he had made to Boromir ere he fell. He thought of three of his friends and one much more, that were even now behind the walls of the White City. He thought of the brave men and women even now knowing that they rode to war, or waited to endure a siege, that they would most likely lose. And he knew what he had to do.

Come what may, the Paths of the Dead called him.

And he would answer.

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"I do not wish for you to come!" Aragorn said, frustrated in the face of his friends' unwavering will.

"Have you learned nothing, laddie?" Gimli huffed, hand planted on his axe, "We are going with you."

"The road is too dangerous." he protested, but Legolas just rolled his eyes.

"As was Moria. I scarcely think that there is a Balrog hiding in the Dimholt, - much too noisy for their liking. I do not fear the ghosts of Men, Aragorn. And why should we leave you, when we three have stayed together against all odds?"

Aragorn smiled despite himself, "I am not going to win this, am I?"

"Of course not!" the Dwarf blustered as if it should have been obvious; "We are not leaving you now, Aragorn. Never let it be said that a Dwarf is afraid of adventure!"

"Then you are most welcome indeed," Aragorn said, "Friendship in dark places is worth its weight in gold. I fret enough over dragging Halbarad in with me."

"As if they would let their chieftain go alone!" Legolas said wryly, "They know you and your penchant for trouble too well, mellon nín!"

As Gimli and Legolas saw to saddling Arod, and Aragorn saw to his own mount, he was stopped by the insistent pressure of Éowyn's arm on his. "Why do you go?" she demanded, eyes flashing with disappointment and ire, golden hair reflecting moonlight, "Why do you abandon us? We go to war! You cannot leave on the eve of battle. You cannot abandon the Men. They trust you. Why do you do this? Why do you let their courage falter?"

Aragorn had not been oblivious to the dismayed stares and the heated whispers that followed him around the camp, but he had had to steel himself not to mind them. This was to be his path.

"This must be done, my lady," he said softly, entreating her anger to subside, "Else all we do here will be for nought. I must take this path or I will not reach the city in time."

"Are you saying that we will not?" Éowyn asked stiffly.

"I am saying that we all must do what we must," Aragorn said firmly, determined not to let her accusing words sway him, "Surely you understand the call of duty. I swore to do all in my power not to let the White City fall. I cannot fail in that."

She released him, but her eyes were downcast, "Just tell me this," she asked quietly, "Does Éomer ride to his death?"

Aragorn wished that he had a reassuring answer, "I cannot say, my lady. Who can?" he said softly, "I can only hope for the best."

"It would seem that hope deserts us," she said pointedly, "Our riders will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor, will they?"

In that moment, Aragorn cursed her sharpness for the pain it would cause her, but he could not lie to her. "No, it will not be enough."

She nodded as if she had expected it and her eyes were hard, "But we will meet them in battle nonetheless," she surmised, "Thank you then, for telling me the truth. May your journey be safe, my lord Aragorn."

Aragorn could only watch her go.

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Long did she stand on the hill, staring down at the massing horses and men, still active despite the late hour, until Éomer, espying her there, joined her.

"Do not let the despair take hold of you, sister," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "We can do this."

"And you expect me to stay here and tend to the children, and find food and bedding for the men if they should return," Éowyn said bitterly, "What glory is there in that?"

"What glory is there in anything where people do not see it?" Éomer said, "Do you think the people respect you any less because you rule them well instead of riding to war? Strength in arms and valour in battle are not always the most important things, Éowyn. Think you any of us would ride out to war and death if we had a choice? So many of us long for peace, and yet you long for war. You cared for them well at Helms Deep, though you fought when you had need. You are not left behind because you are not qualified for battle, Éowyn; you are left here to lead the people if all this should fail." He paused, "I have left instructions. The people are to follow your rule in my stead and you are to take up the King's seat if none of us should return. Long may you defend Edoras if the battle goes ill. I wager even the Dark Lord would think twice ere crossing you."

"Duty seems to be all that is left to me," she replied, not looking at him.

"Have hope, Éowyn. There is still a chance for us all."

As they stood in silence, Éowyn surveyed her brother from the corner of her eye. She did not like deceiving him, but to stay here was impossible.

She would find her glory.

For the first and last time.

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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019 TA, March 14. - night.

"They come."

Her voice froze Celeborn in his tracks, and he turned slowly to face his wife, who was standing on the balcony, looking out, towards the borders. He knew of whom she spoke. He had long known that Sauron would not let them sit out this war. "How many?" he asked softly.

"Too many," came her calm reply, vivid blue eyes meeting his, "Sauron throws the might of Dol Guldur against us and Thranduil. If we do not meet him, he will resort to burning the wood down around our ears. He will stop at nothing to get what he desires."

Celeborn took her hand in his, "Is it really so bad?"

"It could have been," Galadriel admitted, her gaze drifting down to Nenya, glinting brilliantly on her finger, "But not now."

The glow increased so that Celeborn could see the Ring of Adamant, and knew her plan at once, "Is it safe for you?" he demanded, not willing to risk her.

"Safe enough. Especially with Vilya as Nenya's aid," she replied, smiling softly and reassuringly, "It will be well, hervenn nín. For so long have we been forced to endure and hide. Now, we can finally fight back as we once did. The Ringwraiths are abroad, Khamûl has left command of his fortress to a human lieutenant. The Golden Wood will not fall."

Whatever reply Celeborn might have made was lost as Orophin, standing in as Chief Marchwarden for Haldir, burst into the talan. "My lord, my lady!" he cried, "Orcs are massing on the border!"

"Then it has begun," Celeborn said but Galadriel was already moving back to the balcony, to stare at the borders.

"Let them come…."

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The mountain halls of Dunharrow, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 14 - night.

In the privacy of the halls of Dunharrow; well away from any of the gathered riders who might spot her actions, Éowyn set her plan into motion.

She could not stand back and let her brother and her people ride out to war, while she remained in the safety of Dunharrow. She could not conscience it. If this was to be the last war of the age, then she was not going to sit this out. They needed every able body at their disposal.

Telling the ladies that sought her direction that she had a headache and sought her rest, she had retreated into her rooms and locked the door. Pulling out the pre-prepared pack from behind the thick chest of drawers, she checked it quickly to make sure she had enough supplies and everything she needed and then crossing to the clothes-chest, she pulled out her sword and its belt, and the change of clothes needed.

Gratefully peeling off the light dress of functional wool, suited more for work than fashion, she threw it carelessly on the bed. And in quick succession, she pulled on the breeches, tunic and cloak that she had procured, strapping her sword belt around her slim waist when she was done. Looking in the mirror, she busied herself with pinning her hair out of the way. And placing the helmet atop her head to keep it in place, hiding both her face and her long mane of golden hair, she paused to really look at herself.

As long as she kept her head down, and cloak securely fastened, no one should notice anything amiss from a reasonable distance, she concluded. It was high time for the Lady of Rohan to prove her worth as more than a mistress of the Golden Hall.

She left the sealed letter she had prepared on her bed. Then grabbing her pack with a small smile, she opened the window in her anteroom, checking to see if anyone was present, and satisfied they were not, lightly leaped out the window.

It was time to find her own destiny.

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Dunharrow, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 15 - dawn.

Merry stomped his way over to the King's tent, intent on clearing up this little mix up. Really, where did that beast of a man get the idea that he would be remaining behind? Because he was most definitely going to Gondor. After all, he had to catch up with Pippin, did he not? And now, with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli leaving in the night with nary a goodbye, he was the last member of the Fellowship left. And by the Green Dragon, he was going to Minas Tirith!

He caught up with Éomer just as the young king and Elfhelm walked out of the tent, deep in discussion as most of the Rohirrim were preparing to ride for the White City at any minute.

"Éomer!" he called, casuing the king and his marshal to pause, "Éomer!" he said as he ran up to him. "That man, Gamling, said that I was not to go with you. Will you please straighten him out?"

But unlike what Merry had expected, Éomer did not look in the least bit surprised, "I am sorry, Master Meriadoc, I cannot do that," he replied, "Little Hobbits do not belong in war."

Merry felt like hitting the man, king or not, but he got the feeling some nasty Hobbit revenge would not get him what he wanted so he suppressed it. "But all my friends have gone to battle. I would be ashamed to be left behind! I must go!"

Éomer shook his head sadly, "It is a three-day gallop to Minas Tirith, and none of my Riders can bear you as a burden. And you cannot ride on your own. And even if you did get to the city, what could you do? You cannot block the swords of men. They would run you through with little effort. You cannot come, Merry. Besides, your services would be better spent guarding my sister and those she protects."

"But I want to fight!" Merry said, his temper boiling as he realised that Éomer was not going to give in.

"I am very sorry," was Éomer's only reply as he mounted Firefoot, "Form up and move out!" he barked, not looking down at the hobbit from his tall stallion.

As the riders moved out, Merry could only stand there and watch as the long lines moved out, passing him by. But he got a shock when as one rider, at the end of a column, reached out with their arm and grabbed him, pulling him up on their horse.

A familiar voice urged him to be calm and Merry's head snapped back to look at the rider, "My lady!" he said in surprise.

"Shush!" she said warningly, but a smile drifted around her lips and Merry nodded in understanding.

"You too?" he said conversationally, as she used her cloak to shield him from sight.

"Unfortunately," was her only reply as then came the war cry from Éomer at the front, passed back through the lines of riders.

"Ride! Ride now to Gondor!"

And so Éowyn urged her mount into a swift gallop to match those around her and she and Merry exchanged conspiratorial smiles at their success.

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The Paths of the Dead, 3019 TA, March 15.

The gathered group was silent as they carefully turned onto the road into the Dimholt, the road that led to the door to the Paths of the Dead. No one spoke, and many looked around constantly, shivering slightly at the unnatural chill in the air. For his part, Aragorn rode at the front, bearing a torch aloft, as did Elladan at the rear. Gimli and Legolas rode directly behind him, Gimli wishing to stay as close as possible to the torch and muttering about the sudden leave-taking of his good Dwarvish sense, while Legolas had no fear for the ghosts of Men.

Aragorn felt the most disconcerting feeling of disorientation as he rode into the growing shadows. Not even the dark depths of Moria had spooked him so. His sight was diminished in the gloom but ever could he hear an endless whisper of voices all around him, in no tongue he recognised. He knew all too well what they were. The ghosts. The dead that never slept.

And soon enough, their fear grew so that no one would look back. For if they had, they would have seen a flickering host that thronged the paths behind them. And even the most steadfast heart could be forgiven if it skipped a beat at the fearsome sight.

After what seemed like an eternity, they came to the Door of the Dead. The door stood ajar, and the bones of a skeleton's hand could be seen in the gap. It was not a promising sight and on Arod, Gimli gulped, able to see the dead hand very, very clearly. "What kind of an army would linger in such a place?" he said gruffly, "Because I get the feeling that I seem to have overlooked something."

Legolas had expected it. He doubted that the Dwarf knew the full story of the mountains. "It happened in the last age." he said softly, "The army here is cursed. Long ago, the Men of the Mountain swore an oath to Isildur of Gondor, to come to his aid, to fight against Sauron. But when the time came, when Gondor's need was most dire, they fled. And so Isildur cursed them, never to rest until they had fulfilled their oath. To fulfil it, they must fight. But few have dared pass these doors since, and none have ever returned."

"Well, that is comforting," Gimli huffed, eyes wide, "And pray tell, why did you not tell me this _before_?"

"You did not ask, Master Dwarf," came the Elf's easy reply.

As Aragorn led them closer to the doors, the horses started to spook, even those upon which the Elves rode, and soon, they were forced to dismount and lead them by the reins, for no other way would they approach them.

Gimli shuddered at the unnaturally chill wind that blew from the doors, as if serving as a warning, "The very warmth of my blood seems drawn away." he said, "I think my father was right. Lord Elrond is insane."

Legolas looked at him reprovingly, but there was a hint of a smile, "He sired the twins did he not?" the Elf murmured softly, careful not to let the already glaring Elrohir overhear his words, "What made you think he was sane?"

Gimli considered it and then conceded the point, "Too true."

Opening the heavy stone door, Aragorn nearly flinched as a voice echoed around them, '_The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead, and The Dead keep it. The way is shut….._'

But it would not deter him from his path. Squaring his shoulders, Aragorn marched in, leading nervous Hasufel, and Legolas was swift on his heels with Arod, but Gimli wavered at the entrance, fearful of the ghostly spectres. "Here is a thing unheard of!" he grumped at last, shoring up his courage, "An Elf will go underground and a Dwarf dare not!" Then tightening his grip on his axe, he marched into the unknown.

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Dark had fallen, and every time Gimli turned around, he saw the ghostly shapes. Legolas saw his glance, "The Dead are following," he said simply.

And Elrohir nodded in agreement, "Yes, the Dead ride behind. They have been summoned."

But the state of uneasy peace did not last once they came to a grand cavern, where thousands of skulls lay strewn across it. At once, the figures behind them vanished, and a chill wind blew, snuffing the torches out, and striking fear into the hearts of the most stalwart. Only Legolas, with no mortal blood in his veins, remained unmoved by fear, but even he did not escape the wariness that permeated the rest.

A figure appeared at the top of the hall, seeming to glow an eerie green. Cautiously, Aragorn turned to face him. The only light came from the Elves and the ghosts. Leaving enough darkness to hide anything…. Like an army…

"Who enters my domain?" the figure with the ghostly crown demanded.

Aragorn squared his shoulders, "One who will have your allegiance." he replied steadily, "You know why I have come."

The King of the Dead snarled, "The Dead do not suffer the living to pass…." he growled.

Aragorn nearly growled right back. He did not have time for this! "You will suffer me!" he said sternly.

The King of the Dead threw back his head and laughed, and as he did, the Dead appeared and surrounded the group of the living, as if at an unseen command. "And so mortal puppies come to bandy words with the Dead!" he said with contempt, "The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead and the Dead keep it. The way is shut. No living can pass and leave unscathed. Now you must die for your folly."

Some of the rangers raised their bows but a gesture from Aragorn stilled them, "It would do no good. No mortal weapon can kill them," he said before turning back to the Mountain King, "I summon you to fulfil your oath. As Isildur cursed you, I summon you now to fulfil your oath and fight for me!"

The King of the Dead drew his ghostly blade, glowing an ominous green, "None but the King of Gondor may command me." he snarled and lunged.

Aragorn barely moved fast enough to parry the blow and the ghost's eyes widened as Andúril parried his ghostly blade as if it were made of real metal and not shadows, and then the ranger grabbed him by the throat as if by instinct, taking advantage of his blatant shock.

The ghost's eyes bulged, "That blade was broken!" he cried in shock and dismay, "The line was ended! It cannot be!"

"Narsil has been remade." Aragorn said, releasing the ghost, "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur, and the Blade That Was Broken is mine by right! And I call upon you now!" He looked at the host of the Dead surrounding the group, "Fight for us, fight for me, and regain your honour." he demanded, walking through the ghosts that scattered out of his way, fearing his blade, "What say you? Will you have peace or this unending torment?"

There came no reply. "What say you!" he repeated loudly.

Gimli grabbed his arm, "You waste your time, Aragorn!" he said disparagingly, "They had no honour in life, they have none now in death."

Aragorn shook him off, seeing in Elladan and Elrohir's faces the need to press forward. "I am Isildur's heir!" he repeated, "Fight for me, and I will hold your oaths fulfilled! You can know freedom again!"

The Dead still did not reply, and Aragorn's frustration grew. He _needed _them! Without them Gondor with fall! And take his heart with it. "What say you! What say you!" he cried, "Answer me!"

The King of the Dead drifted away, and at Aragorn's cry, the ground started to shake, throwing several Men off balance. Gimli looked around with concern, "Aragorn, I think we had better be leaving," he warned softly, recognising the signs, "Aragorn!"

The shaking grew louder and suddenly, as if out of nowhere, skulls and rubble poured down upon them. Elrohir cursed, and started running to the entrance, "Well, this is just great!" he groused as he grabbed Aragorn on the way out, dodging rocks and skulls.

Behind them, the others raced to the entrance, the horses rearing and flying towards the nearest exit as fear took them. The rumbling continued as they raced down a dark passageway and then Elladan spotted light ahead, and half a minute later, they staggered out of a crack in the mountain and into a valley.

Even as Aragorn sank to his knees in defeat, Elladan tumbled out of the passageway, cursing like an accomplished Corsair. Getting to his feet, he surveyed the rather rag tag group with something like amusement, "Well, muindor," he said to Aragorn, "I admit it. You can single-handedly cause more trouble than me, Elrohir and Arwen combined. Well done. I do not suppose who have the slightest clue as to what we should do now?"

Aragorn did not reply. What in Arda was he going to do now?

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Dunharrow, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 15.

Boromir strode into the mountain refuge of Dunharrow to the shocked stores and gasps of those who recognised him from his previous visits to the Riddermark. "Can I speak to whoever is in charge here?" he demanded, looking at the disarray.

A tall man stepped forward, "King Éomer and the Lady Éowyn have gone away to war." he said, "And though you may not have heard, Théoden King and Prince Théodred are dead. Most of the Marshals and captains have ridden with Éomer King, but of those who came too late to leave with the king, I rank the highest."

"And your name, sir?" Boromir inquired, trying to process the startling information.

"I am Dúnhere, chieftain of the folk of Harrowdale. At dawn three days ago, Gandalf the Grey came to us and told us that our king had need of us. But alas, the distance was too great and he had already left when he arrived. But you, my lord, are said to be dead. How comes it that you stand before me now?"

"Let me just say that the rumours of my death were greatly exaggerated and the pretence was kept as a smokescreen against the Dark Lord." Boromir replied, "Great is my errand and I have come here to look for aid. Is there any here who will follow me to the White City?"

Dúnhere looked at him carefully, "What is your errand?"

"To save Minas Tirith and so let her stand against the Dark Lord so that he does not overrun every part of Middle Earth," Boromir replied, "I am not my father, too arrogant to admit to needing help. But I travel now to Dol Amroth by the coast roads, to entreat my cousins there to allow me men to take to the aid of Gondor, ere it is too late."

"Your reputation has preceded you, Boromir, son of Denethor," Dúnhere said, "Tales of your valour have long reached our lands. My men chafe at remaining behind in this refuge when men were already left to guard our folk. We will ride with you, if your errand be true."

"I give you my word, on the grave of my mother, that I speak the truth," Boromir said, "Another force of the Dark Lord approaches from the coast. They will overwhelm Gondor if they are not stopped before they reach the city."

"Then what are we waiting for," Dúnhere said with a reckless grin, "Let us ride!"

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Lothlórien, 3019 TA, March 15.

The orcs surged forward, bearing flame and blade, ready to hack and burn the trees that protected the loathsome Elves within to ash. But as they lunged, they encountered some sort of shimmering barrier, which prevented their entrance.

From the shadows of the trees, a figure emerged. Clad all in white, with hair of spun gold and eyes of deepest blue, she stared at them. They snarled at her, recognising the despised Lady of the Wood.

"Come out Elf!" they taunted, "We shall tear this down! And rip the skin from your bones!"

"Oh, I do not think you will be doing anything of the sort," she replied, her melodious voice making their foul skin crawl, "You and your master are not welcome here. And you do not have the power to threaten me without your master present. I give you but one warning. Leave now and you might live."

With a guttural cry, they lunged forward, shooting flaming arrows that never penetrated the wood of Lothlórien, "I did warn you," she said and then, to their horror and fear, she started to glow, growing in intensity and brightness until she was like a beacon of light that seared their eyes and flesh.

The figure thrust her hands out, and the shimmering wall pressed forward, drowning the orcs in water that stung and burned like acid. Their screams and roars filled the air as the unnatural rain fell down upon them, and it did not relent until every last one was dead, following those that ran. She could not allow them to harm Lórien. She could not.

When it was over, she sagged as the power drained from her and left behind, the price. Celeborn caught her as she fell, exhausted from her exertions, "You cannot prevent loss of life forever." he warned as he lifted her.

"But I can prevent it for a little while…." she replied and her gaze went back to the dead orcs, "They will be back…"

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Pelennor Fields, near the Rammas Echor, Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 15.

Faramir had originally had no intention whatsoever of following Buffy's request, merely planning to pretend to honour it. But the closer he drew to the great wall of the Rammas Echor, the more he saw the logic in her request.

The sky overhead was dark, the light of the sun swallowed by the unnatural clouds that crept out from Mordor, turning day to night. In near pitch darkness, he was able to pass unmarked by any scouts, but the darkness hindered his ability to see his enemy as well.

But stretching in a long train from Osgiliath, there were torches of firelight, of campfires. The sky overhead had been darkened for them by their master and now the orcs could march without fear of sun or moon. And ever onward they came, the innumerable torches striking fear into Faramir's heart as he realised the numbers coming against his beloved city, his home.

The Enemy stretched out before him like a sea of moving ants. He could hear the rhythmic beat of the drums, going boom! Boom! The echoed snarls of the orcs, the thuds of the Enemy as they struck again and again at the gates separating them from the Pelennor Fields.

So many… he thought with horror. So many coming against them, and so few to defend Minas Tirith. How could they hope to beat this?

A sudden flare of fire and a thunderous roar suddenly highlighted part of the wall as… _something_…. smashed through it as if it was nothing. Silhouetted in darkness and fire, it looked like something out of the worst of nightmares. Never had he seen its like. The fiery whip sent the great stone wall crumbling down with every blow and even as he stared in fear and the utmost horror, another figure, larger than he had ever seen, came alongside it. And with its great clawed hand, grabbed a section of wall and ripping it from its foundations, carelessly discarded it into the Pelennor.

Twenty feet away from Faramir, it crash landed in a shower of rubble and dust, casuing the earth to rumble and his horse to throw him to the ground as it fell. Getting up, he stared at the sixty feet long piece of rubble, and then he looked back, at the great gust of fire that lit up the night sky looking like a pillar of flame.

Grabbing the reins of his frightened horse, he swiftly mounted and with every bit of speed he could muster, raced back towards Minas Tirith.

They had to be warned….

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The Tower of Ecthelion, Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 15.

The soft rustle of cloth was the only sound in the room as Denethor entered, heavy robes swishing against the floor. Shutting the door behind him, he locked it, not trusting that blasted thrice damned wench to not violate the sanctity of the tower. His tower. As she had done his city.

Crushing to the plush armchair that rested in front of the small pedestal, the round shape it held covered with a dark cloth, he sat down and with hands trembling with anticipation, removed the cloth.

In front of his eyes, the palantír flared to life, images flashing across the glassy surface. Holding his breath, he touched his hand to it, "Show me my fate," he said, and the images swirled together before coalescing into one image….

/ _The city was aflame, the lower levels reduced to rubble as orcs swarmed through the broken gates… endless legions of them overtaking the city and cutting down all in its way… He saw that witch, Buffy, drop to her knees before the Witch-King as some swirl of power held her before rising and running her sword through him…. He saw her coldly step over his body as he saw the life leave him….. Saw Faramir run down… saw the citadel taken over by swarms of orcs and Southrons and Easterlings… and he saw the darkly crowned figure, with eyes of fire, seated on the king's throne…. /_

With a harsh cry, he drew back, falling out of his chair in his haste to get away from the horror of the images in his mind. However, without fail, he could feel the lure of the knowledge, the need to know, rise up within him.

And crawling up, he looked into the clear surface once more…

This time, as soon as his eyes looked into the glass sphere, fire rolled across its surface, until a great eye of fire formed…. The Eye of Sauron….

It held him captive in its thrall, leaving him horror-stricken but unable to look away, as that dominant will held him in place. He could feel him probing his mind, rifling through his memories and when it hit on the one it seek, it sent a wave of pain so intense through Denethor that he thought he would die from it.

'Where is it? Where is the Ring? Who has it?' the Dark Lord demanded and Denethor was helpless to do anything but answer.

"Baggins…. His name is Frodo Baggins…" he gasped out, throat constricting from the pain he felt slicing through every nerve.

Sauron seemed to know this already, for Denethor could sense his impatience, 'WHERE!'

Feeling like his head was about to explode, Denethor struggled to answer, "G-Gondor…." he stammered through the pain, "Gondor…."

Even as the Dark Lord intensified the pain, Denethor mercifully passed out as Sauron withdrew, releasing his grasp on him for now.

Only for now….

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A/N: So? What do you think! Feedback please! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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Next chapter: Some trouble with ghosts… Some pirates get a surprise…. Arwen's plan swings into action…. Faramir gets into a little trouble…. And the Siege of Gondor begins in earnest….

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Elvish:

Estel - hope

Muindor - brother

Dúnedain - Men of the West

Elessar - Elf-stone

Adar - father

mellon nín - my friend

hervenn nín - my husband

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Amon Lanc - 'the Naked Hill' in Sindarin. The site of the tower of Dol Guldur in Southern Mirkwood.

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Dol Amroth - the royalty of Dol Amroth are believed to have an Elven foremother in their line. Stronghold of Gondor on Belfalas, named after Amroth King of Lórien (deceased.).

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Dunharrow - Fortified refuge in the Ered Nimrais. It is the mountain refuge of the people of Rohan. And the entrance to the Paths of the Dead is there.

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Dwimordene - the name in Rohan for the Golden Wood of Lothlórien. It has generally been villainised by superstition, old wives' and soldiers' tales of the Lady who dwells there, and how she weaves her spells with sorcerers and net-weavers. All completely untrue, but none of the Rohirrim have ever gone near the Wood and they fear it.

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Éoherë - term used by the Rohirrim for the full muster of their cavalry.

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Imrahil - Prince of Dol Amroth at the time of the War of the Ring. The line of the Princes of Dol Amroth is said to be of Elvish descent, a foremother being a Silvan Elf and a handmaiden of the Elleth Nimrodel of Lórien. Father of Lothíriel. Denethor's brother-in-law. Uncle to Faramir and Boromir.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Ithilien - territory of Gondor, east of Anduin. In the earliest time the possession of Isildur and ruled from Minas Ithil.

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Khamûl - Ringwraith. Second only to the Witch-King. Also known as the 'Black Easterling'. Was perhaps the wraith with the strongest capability of thinking for himself but had the weakest powers during the day. In charge of Dol Guldur.

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Lothíriel - daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth.

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Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Narsil - the sword of Elendil that was broken when Elendil died in combat with Sauron. Isildur used its shards to cut the One Ring from Sauron's hand. The shards are passed down onto each successive heir of Isildur as a heirloom.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

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Palantír - one of the seven seeing stones that were scattered throughout Gondor and Arnor during the reign of Elendil. For the last few centuries, they have been considered unsafe to use as it is believed that one of them is in the possession of Sauron.

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Pelennor fields - 'Fenced Land'. The 'town lands' of Minas Tirith. Guarded by the wall of Rammas Echor.

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Rammas Echor - out-wall. For ten leagues or so it ran, from the mountains' feet and back again, enclosing in its fence the fields of the Pelennor.

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The Citadel - the High Court. The Place of the Fountain beneath the feet of the White Tower.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

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«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	52. Shadow's Strike

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Sorry about the delay, but my internet connection decided it was time to play up!

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Review responses:

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Allen Pitt - yes, it is a very big stroke of luck that Denethor doesn't know about Frodo's mission. Or that Faramir didn't tell his father that the Pass of Cirith Ungol was their route. Otherwise, methinks Sauron would get his little trinket back fairly snappy.

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Arcrose - Thanks! And yes, Buffy is back in this chapter! I think I've got a bit of most people. And don't think things will work out yet. You have no idea what my muse has cooked up! Just a friendly warning….

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Belligerent-road-pylon - but what about Denethor? I think the salmon should be used on him!

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Dedanaan - hi! Thanks and welcome! Oh I may be Irish, but I hate the Irish language. Along with about the 90 of Irish people who can't speak it fluently. Thanks for the review!

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Devine-desire - thank you! And yes, I'm not sick. All clear on that front. And no, Denethor will never ever learn….

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EoSpHoRuS - well, the twins are sticking around for the foreseeable future!

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EverAfter-01 - you do realise that Romeo and Juliet die in the end, right?

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Lady Meridia - sorry, can't say. As for the Balrogs, Sauron's master in the First Age, - Morgoth - created them from the spirits of Maiar. I imagine he had quite the supply. And can't elaborate on Nenya yet. Poor Galadriel really isn't anywhere near finished yet!

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Lali-chan - Definitely wishful thinking. And yes, I think the Mischief gene runs through the Peredhel line, along with the Get Into Trouble gene! Torture you? Whatever gave you that idea?…. Yes, fear for Faramir. The poor man has no idea what is in store for him. (Cackles merrily) Don't worry, Denethor will get his soon. Just be patient. And the ending he gets is probably the one he deserves.

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Light Spinner - alas for Galadriel…. That was only the first wave… and Arwen's plan becomes a bit clearer in this chapter! And Buffy is back too!

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Liit06 - thank you! And yes, the scene where Boromir figuratively comes back from the dead should be most… interesting…. And don't always trust what Denethor thinks may happen …. I know it may have seemed one way, but that doesn't mean he is seeing it the right way… and about 'A Light To You…', some other author actually volunteered to finish it, as I'm not going to and then disappeared…

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Mari - I am afraid that you have to guess! And why pick only one? Feel sorry for them both! And as for school, you have my deepest sympathies!

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Pamie884 - thanks! And more Boromir in this chapter!

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Reyavie - still in exams? You poor thing!

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silvermoon-starchild - welcome and thanks!

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Sparky24 - thanks! And the Battle of the Pelennor Fields is starting, yes.

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Tenshikoneko03 - and which way is that? Because I already got his big finale planned out! And well, I think I actually cobbled bits from both the movie and the book. So I could use literally anything out of the LotR-verse…. And you had to ask, didn't you? I always find trouble to pull from anywhere! And again, Arwen is sister to the twins. She is obviously not totally sane!

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The Great and Powerful Oz - He has already spilled the beans so it's a bit late in the day for that now. However, don't worry; what goes around comes around…

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Vkky - the update is here! And I hear withdrawal symptoms can be painful.

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XinnLajgin - when do I _ever_ give Aragorn a break? Éowyn does appear in this chapter but not her glory moment. Yet. And yes, the Pelennor is going to be an utter disaster….

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And major thanks to:

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AidanPryde, Dagnir, Dreamzone, goldenshadows, Lunawolf, Selene, Sukera, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Wild320,

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CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO: SHADOW'S STRIKE

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"'Tis madness and the rule of mind distraught,  
Since she beheld her city sink in fire,  
And hither comes, nor brooks the bit, until  
In foam and blood her wrath be champed away."  
- Aeschylus, "Agamemnon".

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Rohirrim camp, 3019 TA, March 15.

They had found a stealthy place to hide and rest amongst the masses of Riders. Merry's height was hard to disguise and Éowyn did not want Éomer to see her, because he would not turn a blind eye. She knew that several of the Riders had recognised her and her companion, yet kept their peace. She knew that Éomer would send her home without delay if he knew she was here but it pained her not to be able to join him and take heart in each other's company.

Still, she had Merry, who was unfailingly charming, despite being jostled on her mount for most of the day.

But he did seem more sad than she had ever seen him, and to take her mind off her own sorrows, she sought to comfort him. "Take heart, Merry. It will soon be over. You must not despair now."

Merry looked at her, eyes devoid of the usual mischievous sparkle and shoulders slumped, "I merely miss my friends," he said after a moment, "Sam and Frodo are out there as Middle Earth's hope. Who knows what has happened to them? And Pippin…. He has gone to Minas Tirith and everyone says that it will take a miracle to save the city. I do not even know if he is safe. But I am here, safe, in the middle of a camp of soldiers. And I know that it is too late to turn aside but what can I do? I am only a hobbit, not some great lord of Rohan, capable of great deeds. I know I cannot save Middle Earth. I just wanted to help my friends. But here I am, and I have never felt so useless. Even when Gandalf and Buffy fell, I could cheer my friends up. But what can I even hope to do now?"

She took his hands in hers and looked at him earnestly, "You will see them again, Merry," she said softly, "And I do not think you should disparage yourself so. Look at you! You have ridden to war against your lord's wishes, and you have not quailed at the task is before us. You have more heart than ten men, Meriadoc Brandybuck. Do not give up on yourself now. I know that one person may seem insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but maybe we are here because we can make a difference…. We have to hope Merry. Else what are we here for?"

"Do you think we can do it?" Merry asked, "Do you really think we can win?"

She thought of lying but knew that she could not do that to him, "Lord Aragorn said that we did not number enough to break the lines of Mordor," she said quietly, blue eyes earnest, "But we go anyway. Because if we do not, then we give up on ever being free again. And I would rather die with honour fighting for my country and my freedom, than die under the Dark Lord's yoke. If Gondor falls, none of us shall stand long for Rohan will go down with her. But this is my choice, to fight 'til my last breath, whatever the end."

"You are both brave and fair, my lady," Merry said with wonder, "There are enough who would cower under their beds when faced with such a choice. But if you should fall, won't that mean that Rohan does not have a King or Queen?"

She smiled, a thin bloodless smile, "If Rohan's current King falls, then I should be a Queen, only to see my land overrun with the servants of Sauron, burning and pillaging the once fair lands. I could not stand that. There is no other choice, my friend. To have a future, we must win. It is as simple as that."

He considered her words, and she could almost see him taking them to heart, as a kindle of fire flared in his eyes once more, but he got no chance to reply. Nearby, a soldier called out the message, "Prepare to move out!" he bellowed, "We ride through the night!"

Éowyn stood up, giving her hand to Merry to help him up, "So, are you ready to fight Master Hobbit?" she asked teasingly.

He gave her a small smile, "Your words have cheered me, my lady. You are right. It is time to make a stand. Even if I have to be the only hobbit on the Pelennor." He adjusted his helmet as Éowyn boosted him up onto the horse. "To battle?" he said with a reckless grin, even as the horns blew throughout the camp.

She swung up behind him, taking the reins and matched his smile, "To battle!" she said and then urged the horse into a canter.

They had a war to fight after all.

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The Paths of the Dead, 3019 TA, March 15.

After some minutes of bolstering his wearied and defeated spirit, Aragorn slowly stood up and straightened his shoulders. He could not think how they could defeat the Corsair fleet with just over thirty men, but he knew that if he did not at least make an attempt, Gondor would fall. And from there, so would the rest of Middle Earth.

"Come," he said, voice hoarse after the dust, causing some of them to look at him in surprise, but his brothers and his fellowship companions nodded in understanding, "They may have foresworn their oath but we have not. Gather as many horses as can be found. We ride for Pelargir."

Gently stroking Hasufel to sooth the still nervous beast, he checked the horse over for any injuries and was preparing to mount when Legolas's surprised voice called out to him, "Aragorn! Look!"

Turning around, half expecting to see some other omen of trouble, Aragorn's eyes widened when he saw the King of the Dead hovering outside the half collapsed entrance to the Paths of the Dead. For a moment, all was silence, but then Aragorn saw the tall, black stone of Erech in the distance and knew what he had to do. "Why have you come?" he demanded softly.

The ghost stared back at him with no signs of remorse, "Do we have your solemn word that if we fight, that brings an end to this? That if we fight for you now, you will release us?"

Aragorn held his gaze, "I give you my word," he said softly but firmly, "Fight for me and I will release you when the battle is done."

The ghost nodded, "Then we shall fulfil our oath and thus have peace at last." He grinned then, a feral grin that unnerved Aragorn, "We fight."

Aragorn was suddenly aware, even as the horses spooked again, that the ghosts were gathering about them, - a flickering wall of spectres, all come to fight. Surveying them, he imagined how long the Corsairs would last against that which could not be killed and then grinned back, "Then the hour is come at last." he said formally, "Now I go to Pelargir upon Anduin, and you shall follow. And when all this land is clean of the servants of Sauron, I will hold the oath fulfilled, and you shall have peace and depart forever. For I am Elessar, Isildur's heir of Gondor and I give you my word. Fight for me, and I shall free you. Do you agree?"

The ghosts nodded and an echoing 'aye!' rose all about them. Nodding to the unsettled rangers, the nervous Dwarf and the smirking Elves, he mounted Hasufel. And moving to the head of the column of men, he urged the mount into a canter that the others followed, with the ghosts of the oath breakers following them like an army of shadows.

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His army of shadows.

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Pelargir, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 15.

They rode with haste and before the afternoon sun waned, they had arrived at the city of Pelargir. Often had it been plagued by the threat of the Corsairs and their infamous black fleet but as Aragorn looked down at the trading city, he swore it would not be for much longer.

He could see the black sails in the harbour, preparing to dock and he looked at the people gathered behind them. He specifically looked at the King of the Dead. "I need those ships intact," he said sternly, "They are our passage to Gondor. I do not want a battle waged on the decks. I think it is preferable if the Corsairs saw the… wisdom… of leaving. Do you not agree?"

The King of the Dead bared his teeth, "Scare the wits out of them, you mean?" he said gruffly.

"I believe that will do." Aragorn said with a small smirk, and then removed Andúril from its sheath. "Let us go. And be stealthy. Let them not see the trap 'til it is too late."

The small company, with the ghosts hidden, made their way to the port. The city was near deserted, the people fleeing once news that the Corsairs were coming spread. Especially since Gondor could spare no forces to help them. When the pirates were pillaging, 'twas better to be in the safety of the other fiefdoms than the coastal city.

The rangers formed a loose line on the docks, waiting and watching carefully as the Corsairs prepared to dock. "You do know what you are doing, right laddie?" Gimli asked.

Aragorn spared him a small smile, "As well as any man can," he said, "Do not fret Master Dwarf, though your axe may not find much use here, I daresay it will find much to dent its blade in Minas Tirith."

Gimli rolled his eyes, "As long as the stupid horse does not throw us!" he grumbled under his breath.

Legolas arched an eyebrow, "Us?" he repeated, "I think you are mistaken, Dwarf. If any are going to fall off a horse, it will not be me but you!"

At the ill disguised snickers of Elladan and Elrohir, Gimli clutched his axe and resisted the urge to throw it at them. "Damn tree squirrels!" he muttered sourly.

The pirates on the first ship looked at the group in disbelief, belatedly recognising the Dúnedain. Aragorn ignored their sniggers and nudging of each other and dismounting from his horse, he called out to them, "You may go no further. You will not enter Gondor."

That set the pirates off in a fit of hysterics, until the captain glared at them and came forward, "And we are going to be stopped by a bunch of ragtag peasants from the north?" he said with derision, "Who are ye to deny us passage? Do ye not know that the Dark Lord would have your hide if we did not intend to have it first? What are you going to do ranger? Shout at us some more? And where did ye get a Dwarf? And Elves? Ye lads going in for pets now?"

Gimli bristled visibly and shook his axe, jumping down from the horse, "A pet!" he spluttered, "That is it. Right. We warned you. Prepare to be boarded. I will teach you the fury of a Dwarven axe and then toss your scrawny carcass overboard!"

The captain just laughed, "Boarded little Dwarf?" he said contemptuously, leaning on the railing to look at the strange creature, "By you and whose army?"

Aragorn smirked right back and then lifting his sword, pointed at the now visible ghosts, "This army." he said conversationally.

The corsair captain's eyes bugged out at the sight and his entire crew started yelling as the army of ghosts started swarming aboard their ship and the others docked alongside it. As the living company on the docks watched, the pirates abandoned ship. Casting themselves off from any available surface, they fled before the ghosts' wrath. The captain that had taunted the rangers waved his own sword and shouted at his disappearing crew, "Come back here ye filthy maggots!" he roared, "Are ye to be chased off by children's tales!"

A ghost promptly ran him true and he stared at the ghostly sword as it was withdrawn before collapsing on the deck.

In all, it was going very well. Most of the Corsairs were bobbing in the water, trying to swim away from this new horror. Aragorn looked at his brothers, who watched with all the amusement of someone watching a masque, "Entertained gwenyn?" he asked wryly.

"Oh, very much so, Estel." Elladan replied.

Elrohir nodded, "All that is missing now is some refreshments."

Aragorn sighed even as the King of the Dead tossed the last pirate from the ships, "Well, if you could put aside your jesting for one moment, let us get onboard. This fight is not over yet."

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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 15.

By now, Faramir was beginning to realise that scouting so close to the enemy might not have been the best of ideas.

Arrows flew around him, shot by orcs who crowed as he tried to outrun him. His horse was spooked and he could barely see where he was going. And he was already injured. One of the many arrows had found their mark and he was currently sprouting an orc arrow from his arm. It burned and pain jerked up his arm with every increasingly frantic tug on the reins and every beat of the horse's hooves.

He had to reach the city. They had to be warned and he was not overly looking forward to being at any orc's mercy.

Behind him, the great siege towers had passed through the immense holes in the Rammas Echor, pulled towards the city by massive cave-trolls. And behind them came the endless ranks of orcs, Southrons and Easterlings.

The horse's coat was lathered with sweat but Faramir was forced to keep pushing the poor animal to get to the great gates, ere they both died.

At last, he reached his destination, and the guards on the gate looked at him in startlement, and the gate swung open for him as he raced through, and shutting again with a great clang.

Even as two soldiers came to attend to him, he fell off the horse, clutching his arm in agony. He grabbed one by the collar, "The Pelennor is overrun. They will be upon us soon. Make sure we are ready for the siege." he gasped out, "And get Gandalf and his lady friend. And hurry man!"

They had no time to lose.

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Dol Amroth, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 16.

Arwen stalked the battlements of the seat of Dol Amroth like a caged lioness, and Lothíriel wearily watched her tread the same path she had been walking for the last two hours. "Are you sure he is coming?" she asked for the tenth time. "You have been prowling these halls since yestereve."

"He comes. I know it!" Arwen said snappily and resumed staring out at the darkened land. It was day but one would not know it. The creeping darkness from Mordor had swallowed the light and Lothíriel knew not what Arwen could see, when she herself could only make out the faint bobbing of the torches that fuelled the signal fires. With word of the Corsairs being again abroad, all the windows of every building had been shuttered. It looked like a ghost city, with not even the silver light of the moon to light their way.

"But when?" Lothíriel asked, "Do you plan on staying here in this gloom? You would not even see them in this shadow 'til they were upon us. I have already left instructions with the guard to bring him here when he comes. Will you not come inside and have some peace? Just looking at you is exhausting."

Arwen ignored her, her back straightening as she stared out into the gloom. Squinting, Lothíriel tried to see what had caught her attention but the shadow of Mordor foiled her best efforts. "Lady Arwen, what is it?" she demanded, crossing over to join the tense Elleth.

Arwen looked at her, and then drawing her cloak about her, started to head down into the halls proper, "He is here." she said simply.

"Where?" Lothíriel asked as she hurried to catch up, "I could see nothing."

"Keen are the eyes of the Eldar," was Arwen's only explanation, "Now come, we must grab him before he is cornered by the gossipmongers."

"Well, 'tis hardly everyday that someone returns from the dead," the princess pointed out tartly, "Perhaps if such rumours had not been spread and accepted so widely, we would not have this problem."

"That was not me," Arwen said defensively, "My friend Buffy was responsible for that. Go torment her."

"I am tormenting _you_!" Lothíriel choked out after a moment, "Lady, you have caused more uproar here since you arrived than a Corsair attack! And you say I am tormenting _you_!"

"Oh hush, we are near now." Arwen said conversationally, "Save your ire for your cousin."

And indeed there he was, travel stained and dusty but standing at in the reception room. He did a doubletake at the sight of the two ladies, "Lady Arwen?" he said in surprise, "What are you doing here!"

"Chasing you." the Elf-lady replied, even as Lothíriel crossed to Boromir and glared at him.

"I cannot believe you let your family believe you were dead!" she growled out, "Did you not think about how poor Faramir would feel at your antics?" He made to speak but she cut him off, "Do not even attempt to excuse this loathsome behaviour. Now sit down and listen to lady Arwen. Consider it a personal favour. And by favour I mean order."

"I am sure you have questions," Arwen began, looking at the plainly bewildered Boromir, and so started the tag team over the poor unsuspecting man, "Sadly, they will have to wait. To keep things brief, I know what your plan is. And I will be joining you on your little expedition. And I will not take no for an answer. Understand?"

He gaped for a moment before shaking his head, "Your lord father would kill me." he said, "And then your brothers would disembowel me and then Aragorn would have my head! Are you gone mad!"

She smiled winningly at him, "I assure you I am not. And if you want to reach Minas Tirith ere the war is over, I will be accompanying you."

Boromir looked at his cousin pleadingly, "I only came to seek men and supplies," he said, "I already have a goodly number waiting outside to march. Surely you will support me in this, dear cousin?"

Lothíriel looked blandly back, barely suppressing an undignified smirk, "The men you ask for are already waiting for you, with supplies," she said, "However, I fully back the Lady Arwen in this matter. Considering that you have already 'died' once, perhaps a minder would be in order?"

Arwen pinned him with her bright gaze, sensing that he was wavering, "Trust me, Boromir," she said softly, "I have seen what will come to pass. I must go. If you do not take me, I will only follow you. And I assure you, I can be worse than my brothers to those that cross me."

Boromir sighed as he read the resolve in her eyes, "Then you shall have the pleasure of explaining to your family how you ended up in the middle of a war. I shall have no part of the blame for that. Can you wield a weapon?"

Arwen arched an eyebrow, "Of course." she said succinctly, "I do have several millennia on you, Boromir. Do stop treating me like some fragile creature."

As their talk moved to plans and Arwen's foresight, Lothíriel was surprised to feel a sharp twinge of jealousy. She had never though to envy Arwen her participation in the war, but as time wore on, it became eminently clear that Arwen was not beholden to the wishes of her fathers and her brothers, like she herself was. Arwen could do as she pleased, and Lothíriel envied her that freedom.

As they talked, she almost felt like she would have liked to go with them and test her own mettle. But she had been charged with the safety of Dol Amroth while her brothers and father rode to war.

Still, it would have been nice to at least have the choice. And not forever be nothing more than the Princess of Dol Amroth and a pawn in the marriage market.

She would like to know true freedom at least once.

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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 16.

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"It's not so much that I care about what you're doing, but the idiotic way you're doing it." - Vincent Valentine

Buffy and Gandalf rushed into the healing halls where Faramir was being treated at breakneck pace, "What happened to you!" Buffy cried in dismay. "What part of 'don't get killed' did you not get?"

"I think we have bigger problems than my injury," Faramir said stiffly, "I know nothing of you, but Gandalf has vouched for you and so I will try to trust you. I have seen what might Sauron is bringing to bear on us."

Buffy looked at him carefully, "That bad."

"I have never seen worse." Faramir said grimly, "They are flooding through Osgiliath like a tide, tens upon tens of thousands of them. And more besides."

Gandalf looked at him, "Will you not speak plainly?"

Faramir shook his head, "Not yet. You promised me proof, Mithrandir. I have yet to see it."

Gandalf nodded. "Buffy, show him the Ring of Barahir." he ordered softly.

"What!" she exclaimed, "Why?"

"Just show him, Buffy," he said, "Put his mind at ease. He needs to know that the King is coming and that you are here in his stead."

"This had better not be more meddling, you crafty old coot," she muttered as she pulled the Ring of Barahir from the chain about her neck and showed it to Faramir. "That satisfy you?"

Faramir recognised it immediately from the records and nodded respectfully, "Of course my lady," he replied.

Buffy rolled her eyes, "Scrap the 'my lady' bit and tell us what you saw."

"They have one hundred thousand troops at least and more coming every hour," Faramir said hoarsely, "And some creatures that I have never laid eyes on in my entire life. One was like a great beast, save it seemed to be made from fire and it helped to knock down the Rammas Echor."

Buffy winced, "Way tall, breathes fire, nice little flamey whip thingy?" she asked with dread.

Faramir nodded and wizard and slayer shared a significant glance. "Anything else?" Gandalf asked, sensing that was not the end of it.

Faramir looked at them frankly, "A dragon, I am sure of it."

Buffy and Gandalf froze. "Dragon!" they said at the same time.

Buffy's eyes were wide, "Dragon?" she repeated, "As in flying monster that breathes fire?" She looked at Gandalf, "I thought you were supposed to have killed the last one!"

Gandalf's gaze was dark, "Apparently not." he said darkly, "It seems that Sauron is determined to raze the White City to the ground. He sends not the Nazgûl yet, but instead creatures of fire. I think he means to burn us out if he cannot get in."

Buffy glanced down at Narya and then at Gandalf's staff and steeled herself, "Then I guess we're going to have to make sure that doesn't happen," she said firmly. "Are you okay to fight, Faramir, or are you out of action?"

"I can fight." Faramir answered, and followed the duo out into the citadel courtyard, where Denethor was waiting for them.

His eyes were wild and he clutched the palantír to him like one would a child. He stared at them almost uncomprehendingly, "And so all my sons are spent and my line ends here," he cried pitifully, "I knew you not do anything!" he spat at Faramir, "Always useless! And so the House of Stewards fails!"

He held up the palantír as he crossed to the wall to look down at the massive army that was coming towards the gates. "I saw this!" he exclaimed, "I saw it all! And so comes our death and destruction and Gondor's end! What can now stop the might of the Dark Lord? Rohan has deserted us. We are lost! The Dark Lord comes to claim it all! We are lost!" Looking down upon the battlements, he waved at the soldiers, "Abandon your posts! Flee! Flee for your lives!" he roared.

Buffy slapped him across the face, "Ignore that order!" she ordered the soldiers, "I'm in charge now. Get back to your posts and get ready for the damn siege. _Do not_ make me come down there after you!"

Unwilling to pass up the chance, Gandalf whacked Denethor across the head and then in the stomach with his staff as the steward made to lunge at Buffy. The slayer looked at him with disgust and derision.

"Denethor!" she yelled as he made to go and scare the men again, "You call yourself the Steward of Gondor and dare to claim the title of Lord of this city! Well, not any longer. Get your ass out of here NOW! 'Cos if you do not you're about to get your ass kicked! By a woman no less!"

"I have seen it!" he roared back, "The city will fall! No one can defeat the Dark Lord! I have seen it!"

Even as he spoke, the sound of catapults firing filled the air and up on the highest circle of the city, two severed heads rolled along the ground, with more landing on the lower levels. They were the heads of the Gondorian soldiers who had not made it out of Osgiliath. It was almost enough to make one retch but Buffy could not afford to acknowledge the hit against the city's morale.

Instead, she grabbed the palantír from Denethor and drew her sword, "Leave now." she ordered, with a cold tone and colder face that brooked no opposition, "Don't come back. And don't try anything. You are no longer lord of this city. Insane people do not get to rule. Now get gone before I run you through."

Like a sulky bear, he left and Buffy stared down at the Palantír. What exactly had Denethor seen?

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"You expect us to fight off _two hundred thousand_ enemies!" Imrahil exclaimed, "We have neither the manpower nor the strength of arms! The only chance we have is to hold this city against the siege!"

"That's the coward's way out! They'll just storm us like at Helms Deep!" Buffy protested, "Do you really think they won't get in? I'm not suggesting we charge out there like idiots, but by the Valar, we need to do something!"

"'Tis survival Lady Buffy! Look out there! We cannot fight them head on and the Rohirrim and Lord Aragorn will have great difficulties getting to us at all. Faramir agrees, we are to be defensive. Not offensive. There was only ten thousand at Helms Deep by all reports. A mere pittance compared to the army camped out around this city! And there is more coming all the time. Sauron wants Gondor to fall. And it shall if we are foolish."

"I'm not being foolish. We need to keep them out here and us in here. Sadly, I don't think those siege towers and ladders are going to remain unused. They will storm the walls. We need to play it smart. And if we don't take an offensive, we might as well get out the White Flag and start waving."

"And if we fail?" Imrahil asked, "The possibility must be entertained. What then?"

Buffy's smile was decidedly grim and dangerous, "Then we give him hell," she said bluntly, "If they want this city, then they are going to have to fight for it. Inch by bloody inch."

Pippin looked at her carefully, "It is going to be bad, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said softly. She looked out at Sauron's gathered troops, "I'm kinda wondering whether the end near or here? But that is beside the point. We're not exactly short of asses to kick and I'm really not prepared to lose. So anyone got any other ideas?"

Silence.

"Right, I'll get started on it then," she said, leaving the room.

Imrahil shook his head as he rose from his chair, "I sincerely hope that this king can match up to his lady. I swear I have never seen her like. A strange Queen she will make, but a good one I think."

Gandalf smiled softly at him, "Aye, she is a rarity. But she knows how to fight. And we have great need of something that Sauron will not expect."

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In the trebuchet supply tower, Buffy pulled out the precious bag of Wizard's Fire she had quarrelled away from Isengard, and after coating the boulders with sticky tar, she liberally doused them with the exploding power.

Washing her hands afterwards, she thought of the effect with satisfaction. She thought that she would enjoy seeing the orcs go boom…

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Buffy looked at the demoralised men, "They have given up." Gandalf said.

"Well, the flying heads probably have something to do with that. Majorly gross." Buffy quipped.

"We have to do something." the wizard insisted.

"Any suggestions?" Buffy asked, wracking her brain. "You'd think that these people have never seen an apocalypse before."

"Talk to them," Gandalf said.

Buffy looked at him as if he had grown two heads, "But I'm not good with speeches! I think 'Men of Gondor, today is not the day we die.' is not very morale boosting. So can we just get on with the ass whooping now?"

Gandalf nodded and gestured towards the men manning the trebuchets, "Send these foul beasts into the abyss."

The boulder fired and landed with a satisfying splat, combined with a small boom as it blew apart, taking down more orcs than it crushed with shrapnel. Buffy gave a silent cheer. They worked. Her babies worked.

Her eyes widened, "Incoming!" she yelled, "Duck!" as a boulder slammed in behind them. Buffy surveyed the damage and her now dust covered armour. "This time aim for their damn catapults! And those bloody trolls!" she ordered, "Gandalf, I've gotta go see to the other levels. Happy hunting."

She had seen, as Gandalf had, the arrival of the Nazgûl, led by the Witch-king. And even as she raced to the lower levels, the Ringwraiths on their winged beasts flew overhead, their screeching leeching the courage out of people's hearts.

She careened into the next level, and started shouting the moment she saw some of the men cowering, "For Eru's sake! Get a grip! Hold them back! Do not give into your fear! That's what they want! Stay at your posts! Get up! Man your posts!"

Buffy was not impressed by the men of Gondor's reaction to the Nazgûl. Every time they flew overhead or let out a screech the Gondorians either threw themselves to the ground or froze up, unable to fight. It was unacceptable. Something had to be done and since the Slayer was the only one left functional, it was up to her to get them into gear.

"The siege towers are incoming people!" she roared, "Wake up and stop acting like babies! Or else orcs are going to be swarming these walls like ants! Hold them back goddamn it! Hold them back!"

At her cries, the men started to compose themselves but it was too late as the first of the siege towers clanged into the walls and orcs started pouring out. Grimly, Buffy pulled out her sword. It was to be hand to hand now.

The orcs were in.

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Buffy decided that someone obviously hated her.

If it wasn't enough that the orcs from the siege engines were slowly but steadily pouring into the city despite their best efforts, the Nazgûl had brought a new battering ram with them. Roughly one hundred and fifty feet long, with a monstrous face like a giant wolf at the fore, it was a nightmare come true. Fire even frothed from the mouth, and behind it came a Balrog. Helping to push it along.

The gates were solid wood but they would give way under that strength combined with fire. And then they would be truly screwed. The chant that rose up from the ranks of Sauron made her grit her teeth, as they shouted, "Grond! Grond!" over and over again.

"I think we're in trouble." she said to Faramir.

"I think so," he said, "I have to bolster the gate!" he said as he raced away.

"No!" Buffy said, "Don't! Shore up the next level! The gate won't last!"

"Then try to hold them off!"

Buffy stared at the Balrog that half of the defenders were nearly cowering at the sight of, "Oh yeah," she muttered, "Way easier said than done…"

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Despite herself, Buffy knew she needed an edge.

And so, retreating into one of the storage towers, she pulled out the palantír from her pack. It glittered in the faint candlelight, and images swirled across its surface, like fire rolling underneath the glass.

Steadying herself, she took off Narya, and then looked into the seeing stone.

At once, she peaked Sauron's interest and she felt his will coming to bear on her as he sought to influence her. However, she had already had the Master and Dracula trying to do the exact same thing, and was not inclined to let Sauron have a go. She forcefully shut him out and instead, concentrated on sending him images of her beating his army.

Even across this distance, she could feel his amusement at her efforts. Images swirled across the glass, showing Gondor's fall. Buffy was careful to keep her thoughts on what he had shown her locked away. She was always prepared to let her enemies dig their own holes.

He sensed her resolve and changing tactics, offered her victory, riches, -- all if she joined his service.

She scoffed at him. "Not happening. Ever." she said.

He teased her with images of how easily he would tear the city apart, "You make a lot of sense but I keep coming back to the fact that you're the lying, cheating Dark Lord," she deadpanned. "So again, I'm not going to back down. This city will not fall while I breathe. I swear it."

Laughing at her expense, he assured her that that would not be a problem….

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A/N: So? What do you think? Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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Next chapter: Thranduil finds himself in some trouble… Grond causes some more trouble… an unexpected disaster… Faramir learns just how bad his luck is… and Denethor learns not to cross a slayer…

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Elvish:

Dúnedain - Men of the West

Gwenyn - twins

Estel - hope

Elleth - Elf-maid

Mithrandir - Grey Pilgrim

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Dol Amroth - the royalty of Dol Amroth are believed to have an Elven foremother in their line. Stronghold of Gondor on Belfalas, named after Amroth King of Lórien (deceased.).

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Dunharrow - Fortified refuge in the Ered Nimrais. It is the mountain refuge of the people of Rohan. And the entrance to the Paths of the Dead is there.

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Éoherë - term used by the Rohirrim for the full muster of their cavalry.

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Imrahil - Prince of Dol Amroth at the time of the War of the Ring. The line of the Princes of Dol Amroth is said to be of Elvish descent, a foremother being a Silvan Elf and a handmaiden of the Elleth Nimrodel of Lórien. Father of Lothíriel. Denethor's brother-in-law. Uncle to Faramir and Boromir.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Ithilien - territory of Gondor, east of Anduin. In the earliest time the possession of Isildur and ruled from Minas Ithil.

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Lothíriel - daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth.

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Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

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Palantír - one of the seven seeing stones that were scattered throughout Gondor and Arnor during the reign of Elendil. For the last few centuries, they have been considered unsafe to use as it is believed that one of them is in the possession of Sauron.

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Pelargir - city and haven on the delta of the River Anduin.

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Pelennor fields - 'Fenced Land'. The 'town lands' of Minas Tirith. Guarded by the wall of Rammas Echor.

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Rammas Echor - out-wall. For ten leagues or so it ran, from the mountains' feet and back again, enclosing in its fence the fields of the Pelennor.

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Red Arrow - the 'war-arrow' sent from Gondor to Rohan as a token of the need in Minas Tirith.

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Ring of Barahir - Heirloom of the House of Isildur.

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The Citadel - the High Court. The Place of the Fountain beneath the feet of the White Tower.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	53. Shadows Falling

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Hi! See? The update has arrived! I am not dead! Enjoy the chaos! And who has read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince? I cannot believe JK Rowling did what she did! It was beyond cruel!

Also, I apologise for the delay. However, for the last week and a half, my cousin was rushed into the hospital with acute appendicitis, and the doctors didn't catch it before it burst. So hence the major infection and yuck of all yucks, gangrene. Since the hospital is over an hour away, I have been a busy little bee. And longing for a laptop.

BTW, I don't suppose anyone could recommend a good high-specced laptop? It has to be an English model as here in little ol' Ireland, we do not get the American or Canadian versions.

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Review responses:

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Allen Pitt - Narya will do its bit alright. And don't worry, Denethor gets dealt with in this instalment.

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Ally - Nothing serious. Just lots of RL problems landing in at once! I promise to try to do better!

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Anna aka liit06 - thank you! Narya will feature but sadly, even it has its limits. And yes, Denethor ass whooping in this chapter. I can safely affirm that I will not be finishing or going back to 'A light to you'. I have better Buffy/LotR crossovers to work on if I decide to take on a second crossover fic. Thanks for the comments though. They were very nice.

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Arcrose - thank you! And if you think anything comes easy in Buffy and Aragorn land, you are sadly mistaken. And the palantír is an important point. Very important. Arwen is up to a lot. To be explained later. And no, Lothíriel has to stay. Duty and all that. She has to look after Dol Amroth. Any pairings for Boromir or Lothíriel would, of course, be dealt with in the sequel. Not this fic. And I reserve the right to say nothing about Faramir's possible death. And I hope you find Denethor's end fitting. I thought it was an end he deserved.

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Artemis1000 - thanks! And plenty of Denethor ass kicking in this chapter! I have the same thoughts on the whole Éowyn/Éomer thing. And no comments on the whole Éowyn/Faramir thingy. And do not worry; the way things are shaping up, they are going to need that ghost army. If Aragorn can be obliging. And while I think that Arwen is in for a major lecture from Elrond, I think Galadriel will come down on her side.

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Buffy-CrazyaboutAngel - Denethor gets his comeuppance in this chapter!

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ChibiChibi - thank you! And yes, Denethor's finale comes in this chapter.

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Devine-desire - thank you! Considering what Gandalf is, I do not think he will ever come under the 'feeble' category of old people. Especially since he has been over two thousand years in Middle Earth.

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Dreamzone - thank you! And Denethor definitely has justice done to him in this part! And Faramir's troubles are only beginning… And yes, Big Trouble for Thranduil. Very big trouble. And Elrond is not going to be happy with Arwen for sure! And come to think of it, neither are her brothers!

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EverAfter-01 - Un-lived? Okay, I will give you that one. We will not know about that. However, I think suicide in Shakespeare's times was supposed to land you in hell. So Romeo and Juliet may not have un-lived very happily.

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Gregdoreza - thanks! It might have seemed short but I felt that that was the best place to end it.

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Jessica Turner - welcome and many thanks! And Buffy in danger is pretty much one of the key themes of this story.

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Lali-chan - thanks! And you are so right about Faramir! The poor, poor man… and if Lothíriel was furious with Boromir, just imagine how Faramir and the rest of the Fellowship are going to react? You like LOST? Don't suppose you know who the Frenchwoman's 'they' are? And again, you are right. I am only warming up…

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Pamie884 - thanks! And I too like my little meddlesome Arwen!

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PrincessButtercup3 - thank you and welcome to FK then! And I have great plans for announcing Boromir's return to the land of the living!

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Spk - thank you! I am glad you like the humour! I do try to get it just right sometimes! And yes, the dynamics between Buffy and Aragorn give my muse plenty of fodder!

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Talina - thanks! And the point of Buffy looking into the palantír is shown in this chapter!

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Tenshikoneko03 - thank you! And I hope you like Denethor's end. I thought it suited him. And let's just say that Faramir is going to get a whole new set of problems to worry about…

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The Great and Powerful Oz - fantabulous? Thanks! And I really do not think I am going to start cursing your name.

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XinnLajgin - Éowyn's moment comes in the next chapter. And Buffy and Aragorn's reunion is soon too.

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And major thanks to:

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brianne goree, capricornz89, DaughterofDeath, goldenshadows, Iceman, Kamui Gaia 07, Light Spinner, Lucy, mari, NiennaFaelivrin, peacockgal17, Sapph89, Selene, Starlight - My Chosen Destiny, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Tsuki no Yasha, Viper, Wild320,

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CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE: SHADOWS FALLING

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"Darkness, a dragon, now devours  
The vision of those deadly powers,  
The legions of the lords of sin.  
It is an hour ere dawn begins."  
- Alistair Crowley, 'The Initiation'

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Mirkwood, 3019 TA, March 16.

Ensconced in his council chamber with his most trusted captains and advisors, Thranduil Oropherion, listened to the dread news with an ever sinking heart. "They come with torches, you say?"

Erundul, his Captain of the Guard, nodded, "Aye, nín aran." he said, "They do not just plunder and pillage. Instead, these glamhoth, they burn the forest down around them after they are done! Your majesty, I do not know if we can contain it. Already it is spreading and Dol Guldur pours ever more orcs into the wood."

Thranduil nodded stiffly, "How long until they reach the city?"

"Two hours nín aran," another captain replied, "The ellyth and elflings have been taken to the safest of the caves with provisions and a small company of guards and the soldiers are standing ready. Nín aran, what do you wish to do?"

Thranduil was silent for a long moment but when he raised his head, his eyes were spitting fire, "This forest has not survived years of Sauron's malice to lose now," he said firmly, "I will not be cowed now. We cannot run. Nevertheless, we shall not cower. We may fly before him but we shall never let him win. This is the battle of an age, but it cannot be worse than Dagorlad. They shall not burn this forest down. I forbid it. Now come, my friends, it is time to make war."

"Your Majesty?" one of the councillors enquired shakily, "What is it you mean to do?"

Thranduil turned to look at him, "One very determined young lady once taught me that sometimes the traditional methods are not always the best. Moreover, my own son and those terrors of Elrond's have left enough disaster in their wake throughout the centuries. I only think it is time that I wreak my own."

"But my lord!" one of the more cautious cried as some of the captains shared bared grins, "There shall be battle and fire under the trees! It will destroy the wood!"

"Not our wood." Thranduil said sternly, "Not ours. But the black wood in the south that they have ruined. Do not fret councillors; I intend to make sure the orcs destroy themselves without ever reaching the city."

"Your Majesty!" a messenger cried, bolting into the room, the thick wooden door slamming harshly into the stone wall, "Lady Galadriel sends an urgent message." he said, pressing a piece of rolled paper into the King's hand.

Thranduil carefully unrolled the paper and silently read the message. When he was done, he crumpled it and stuffed it in his pocket as the sundry advisors craned their necks trying to make out even a word. However, his gaze seemed to have sharpened, like a hawk with prey in sight.

"It seems Lord Celeborn is leading an expedition to Dol Guldur after both our realms have expelled the threats," he said calmly, ignoring the few sets of bulging eyes at his words, "Apparently, Lady Galadriel feels an urge to cast down Dol Guldur and everything within it. I personally agree." He grinned ferally, "So I will be joining him. As soon as I have disposed of some orcs. Come!" he called, exiting through the door, "It is payback time!"

At long last, he could cause Sauron just as much trouble as he had done to him.

Now he knew how Legolas and the twins felt after a particularly devious prank.

- Glorious…

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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 16.

Skidding out of the room, Buffy wasted no time in surveying the damage. Her face was a pallid white after what she had seen in the palantír. She did not think even Gandalf could have expected what she now knew was coming.

But somehow, they were going to have to win the day.

Against whatever odds.

Even if they were approaching impossible.

Hearing the ominous creaking sounds of wood beginning to give way over the loud pounding of the immense battering ram, Buffy winced. "Great," she muttered, "Just great..." Spotting a familiar pointed hat in the distance, she pelted off in the wizard's direction. "Gandalf!" she yelled, calling to him as she sped by, already seeing the great gates quaking and swaying, "The gate's going to give way! A little help would be appreciated here!"

Gandalf whipped around from his position sending orcs flying back to the ground instead of toppling over the walls and saw what she meant. Whirling about, he gestured with his staff in their direction; "Back to the gate!" he ordered those nearby, "Hurry!"

As she skidded to a stop near the gates, Buffy saw the disbelieving looks of most of the men present, who had not yet been privy to her and Denethor's latest disagreement. They could not seem to fathom what a woman was doing here, and one who seemed to be helping to run the show as well. They very obviously did not know what to make of her, but Buffy could not spare them a moment's concern.

Looking at the creaking gates, she was stumped as to what to do with them. They had nothing left to shore them up with and she felt that even steel would not do an adequate job of keeping Gondor's enemies out. Gandalf puffed his way up beside her and seemed to sense what convolutions were taking place in her mind.

Taking her elbow, he looked at her seriously, "You can do this," he said quietly.

Buffy scoffed, "With what? Unfortunately, they don't have bazookas in this world."

"But you have a weapon they do not," Gandalf said firmly, trying to impart to her what she must do, "Buffy," he began, "You are a ringbearer. And your death severed Narya's tie to the One. You freed the Three, Buffy. Now, wield Narya as the weapon it can be. Defend the gates of Gondor, defend your city! Be the warrior queen you were born to be!" he said passionately.

She glared at him but worry made it a half-hearted effort, "Not that again, Gandalf," she said, "I am so not getting into this fight right now except to say that you are so wrong. Me? A queen? So not happening. Get over it."

"Whether you will it or no, he loves you," Gandalf said softly, "This could be your city as much as it will be his. You defend it do you not?"

"Did you by any chance see the dragon?" Buffy said wryly, "I think my fireballs are a _lot_ smaller than what it can do. So I'm still in the realm of 'trying to'."

"This is your time, your destiny. This is your world now. A world of wars, and Dark Lords, and sorcery. And you are far more powerful than you know. Sauron is rightly wary of you, though for a different reason than you may think. Do not let him and his wiles divert you from your task; - to make sure that this city stands long enough for aid to come. Imrahil and Faramir will aid you, but you have the weapon. And soon Sauron will know you have it, whether you wish it or not. The Witch-King draws his nets tight and he will sense the power soon enough. No more hiding Buffy. It is time to make a stand."

For a long moment, the slayer just looked at him and then slowly, she nodded. "So you want me to let it rip then?" she said, plans already whirling through her head.

"Precisely," Gandalf said, "I think you know what will be the outcome of this round, but it will buy us time to shore up the next level. 'Tis a game of strategy as much as it is a game of luck."

Buffy's eyes drifted to the quaking gate, "Well, we all know my luck. So go then," she said decisively, "I'll give you your diversion. And I think I have just the thing in mind."

The wizard did not waste a second before pelting up through to the next gate, situated near to the back of this level, and Buffy calmly swinging her sword, strode over to the gates.

One of the ranking captains there glared at her as she motioned for him to move out of the way, "Who do you think you are, woman!" he demanded as his men struggled to brace the gates.

Buffy smiled, a slow smirk that screamed danger, "Why? Didn't someone tell you? I'm the one that knows how to stop them."

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The gate shook forcefully, dust and splinters raining down on the defenders as the great metal head of Grond slammed into it once more. Buffy stared at it for a moment, wondering the best way to attempt this when a stone flew in from one of the catapults and only a hasty step to the right saved her from being squished.

Annoyed, Buffy glared at the stone, "Okay, _now _I'm upset."

Letting the presence of Narya fill her mind, she silently let the Ring of Fire guide her in what to do.

Fire leaped from the ring even as the head of Grond buckled in the gate and broke through. It was a sorcerer's flame, and the molten flame settled itself around the battering ram. As Buffy felt Narya's spell begin to kick into effect, she yelled for the surrounding men to fall back, even as she herself retreated a few paces.

Even as the orcs broke through, climbing in behind it, they did not realise the danger until Grond gave an unnatural heave and then in a burst of fire worthy of an Elven Ring, shattered into a thousand pieces, the sharp shards of wood striking orcs and the now molten metal burning all those who came into contact with it.

As the front ranks of the orcs pulled back in dismay and pain, not knowing what had just happened, Buffy saw the men of Gondor staring at her as if she had not only grown two heads but another set of arms as well.

Seeing Gandalf looking down from the next level with an approving smile, Buffy cocked an eyebrow and addressed him, "Think there'll be anymore?" she said with some satisfaction, "I can wait."

The wizard just shook his head in resignation at her flippant mood. Boys it seemed would be boys, and Buffy would always be Buffy.

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While the front ranks of Sauron's forces were in a state of disarray after Narya's intervention, the men of Gondor were trying to shore up the gate. Ruptured, they knew it would not last long after the Witch-King forced his troops onward, but they needed to buy time. Every minute they gained was lives saved.

Helping out with hauling the heavy wood, Buffy was surprised when a scout let out an awful cry and without one weapon even coming near him, fainted dead away from his sentry post. Feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, Buffy vaulted her way up to the now abandoned sentry post and scarcely ignored the urge to kick something, _really_ hard when she saw what exactly had made the solder swoon.

She really could not blame him for it either.

Outside on the field, the Witch-King was leading reinforcements to the front lines. Reinforcements that looked like they did not need the rest of Sauron's army to throw down Gondor's walls. Buffy felt the beginnings of what had to be a migraine pound out the beat of the drums in her head.

Imrahil climbed up beside her, swiftly followed by a grim Gandalf, "What is that thing!" the prince asked in horror.

Beside him, Buffy's eyes were transfixed, "I'll let you know as soon as I find out." she said faintly. "Just please, someone tell me that isn't another dragon."

"I wish I could," Gandalf said darkly, "I fear this may be our undoing. I take it this is no… friend of yours?"

"Never saw it before." Buffy said with no attempt at humour, "But I'm guessing that it's not friendly. These things always have only one purpose. To kill us all. That's usually the way it works."

"But why now? Why is it here? What is it doing here?"

"Based on the clues," Buffy said grimly, "I'll go with charging up for a killing spree. And that is a best case scenario. Gandalf, my little, um, gift, is not going to be able to handle this. Hell, I don't even know what the monster out there even is, except that it looks like Mr Nasty! And two dragons, two Balrogs, a few Nazgûl, and a whole army of Men and orcs are a little out of anyone's capabilities!"

"What are you saying?" Imrahil asked shakily.

Buffy met his eyes squarely, and said what she and Gandalf already knew, "They're here for blood and chances of any of us getting out of this alive are slim to none, but we have to try anyway. Because if we don't, we might as well kill ourselves and save them the bother."

Ignoring the prince, Gandalf took Buffy by the elbow but his eyes were sad, "You know what has to be done."

She flashed him a grim little smile, "Yep, was pretty much born to it." She caught Gandalf's look and knew what it meant, "Don't worry, I never expected to survive this long anyway." She knew all too well what a slayer's nightmare often meant.

And then she shoved the wizard and Imrahil away, and jumped up onto the battlements.

****

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Buffy stared down at the creature, careful to hide any fear, studying this new problem. The monster was not a pretty sight. Around seven feet tall, it had a similar look to the monster that had led to her death in Moria but nastier if that was possible. It did not look remotely human, more a genetically modified Uruk-hai, with a tail with what looked like a ball of spikes on the end of it. And even worse than its appalling fashion sense (way worse than any regular orc), Buffy knew that it was strong. Just by the way it moved. And worse again, it did not even seem wary of her at all.

Tilting her head up, she gave it her best imperious stare, "I don't care what you are or who you're working for," she called out, "I'm giving you ten seconds to clear out, and then I'm going to get on with the business of killing you. So how about you just do it yourself and save me the bother?"

The monster actually had the gall to laugh. "I don't think so, girl," it sneered, "I think I'm going to crush you."

"You wouldn't be the first to try buddy," Buffy said with bravado, "You see, to me, you're just another monster in a long line of monsters. What the hell is supposed to make you any different?"

But to her dismay, it did not take the bait. Instead, it watched her with uncommonly intelligent eyes for a demon. The two Balrogs beside it cracked their whips ominously. Buffy got the rather scary feeling that it did not seem to consider her a threat at all. Just like Adam. Just like the First Evil. And look how those encounters had turned out. If was the new and improved version of Sauron's previous assassins, then she - and everyone - were in a serious amount of Trouble.

She could not face it now. She could not face her death now. She still had too much to. She would have to level the playing field somewhat before she would give Sauron the satisfaction of finally killing her. Smiling with saccharine sweetness, she waved her sword around for emphasis, "Look, pal. You're obviously not from around here. Now, I don't know what Sauron told you, but trust me, you do _not_ want to see my bad side."

It roared at her, showing a neat row of razor sharp teeth. She looked on, unimpressed, "Wow, that was funny looking. Could you do it again?" she said, voice practically dripping with sarcasm as she folded her arms across her chest.

It was starting to get a little frustrated now she could tell. It had always been a gift of hers to totally infuriate her enemies. And the more mistakes she could get it to make, the better off she would be.

"I will kill you for that wench." it snarled.

"Only for that?" she said dryly, "Then what exactly were you trying to kill me for before? Because I think that you are being rude. I like to banter before I kill someone, but for someone like you, I might make an exception and just kill you already. Because guess what? I'm pretty sure your little master didn't tell you something very important if you're here this quick. Wanna see?"

The demon grabbed a rock from one of the catapults and hurled it at Buffy. The slayer sidestepped on the wall as the large piece of stone went flying past her. Inwardly, she recognised its strength. Outwardly, she arched an eyebrow. "Is that it Mr Monster? Is that all you got? Pretty pathetic isn't it?"

The monster wanted her blood now. She could sense it. Unfortunately, she had to make damn sure she bought enough time to make it count. Praying that this worked, she let Narya rip again. Fire danced along the stone walls, not burning them but doing a good job of keeping Mr Monster and co out. She knew it would not work on the dragons or the Balrogs but she could only cope with one problem at a time and hope that it would want to wait and kill her himself.

She stumbled and nearly fell as a wave of exhaustion hit her and sent her swaying. She looked askance at the Ring of Fire. It seemed that it was not the weapon she had expected. Not if it drained her this quickly. Still, she was no Elf, even if she had been gifted with the life of the people of Númenor. And apparently, Narya would now be a last resort. Because she honestly did not know if she would stay standing if she had to use it again.

Staggering down from the wall, she allowed herself to lean against it for a moment before she pushed away.

Already the magical flames were dying down.

****

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The upper levels were in chaos.

And it was Faramir's job to bring them under some control. Siege towers were being flung off the walls, orcs and soldiers were being slain on the battlements, the Nazgûl were causing havoc and mass panic was infusing the atmosphere at the sight of creatures that were only heard of in legends of ages past.

Needless to say, it was a difficult endeavour.

As three of the Nazgûl swooped overhead, shrieking again, Faramir felt a chill go down his spine and saw no few of his men cowering in their wake. Stout little Pippin was beside him, having been unable to make his way back to the citadel due to the sprawling melee. And so the brave hobbit was sticking close to Faramir, determined to be useful since Gandalf had already hunted him away from the thickest of the fighting down below.

A sudden chill swept over him and the shouts of his men alerted him to what had happened before he felt the disturbance behind him. Spinning around, he almost got his head chopped up by a Nazgûl blade that missed him by barely a hair as Pippin pushed him down and out of the way.

The Nazgûl glared venomously at his saviour but the ranger and the hobbit were already up and moving out of the way as the Nazgûl flew by for a second strike.

Looking at Pippin gratefully, Faramir clapped him on the shoulder, "I do believe I owe you my life - and my head- Master Hobbit." he said quietly, "I am in your debt. Thank you my friend."

Pippin grinned up at him, "Well, it is one up on Merry anyway!" he said, "But think nothing of it. Peregrin Took always helps his friends."

****

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Ducking into the citadel courtyard, Pippin screeched to a halt as he saw Denethor duck into the street of Rath Dínen and scurry down the silent avenue. Curiosity peaked; Pippin crossed the yard and ducked through the gate, just in time to see Denethor's heavy robes disappear around the corner. Following him, he skidded to a stop as he saw Denethor meet someone who was waiting for him, standing weapon less in the middle of the street, and a Nazgûl bearing down on him. He thought of going to get help but something in Denethor's expression told him that this visitor had not been unexpected. And the visitor looked strangely like the Witch King of Angmar.

Which since Weathertop, he had learned was never good.

The Morgul Lord leaned forward on his monstrous mount, "Steward…" he hissed, "Where is it?"

"W-where's what?" Denethor stammered, cowering in the presence of the Dark Lord's Nazgûl Lord.

"Where is the One Ring?" the wraith hissed impatiently, "My lord knows you know fool. Tell me and I might not rip the skin from your bones. My pet is quite hungry."

Denethor whitened, and he bowed his head, almost in deference, "You mean the hobbits?"

Oh by the Green Dragon! Pippin swore inwardly as he listened in. Denethor was going to give Frodo and Sam away! How could he!

Not waiting to hear Denethor try to barter for his life, Pippin tiptoed away and then took off at a run. He had to warn Buffy and Gandalf. Somehow he did not think they had factored in a traitor in their midst.

And they were the only ones here who could save Frodo and Sam.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"I _HATE _dragons!"

Buffy's outraged cry reverberated through the lower levels as she put out the small fire on her now singed braid. A full inch of it had been burned off, and the smell was nauseating, even for a slayer. Gore she could handle but her _hair!_ And so she was whining even more than Cordelia.

Looking at Gandalf, whose own beard and hat looked rather charcoaled, after a rather unfortunate burst of dragon flame - who knew dragons had such tempers? - Buffy eyed him wryly, "Well," she drawled, "That was a good plan. What's next? Invite them to a barbeque? With us as the meat?"

Gandalf glared at her, "The last time a dragon was brought down, I was with an army. Five armies to be precise! And it still took only an arrow! One arrow!"

"Gee Gandalf, that's great and all. But I think the orcs are on the dragons' side this time. And its _dragons_. Plural. Not to mention, I think even Legolas would be pushed to make an arrow hit its mark considering they, oh, are, you know, _setting everything on fire!_ We can't hold it Gandalf."

"Narya?"

Buffy shook her head, "Not going to happen. I think it can do maybe one more really big thing but then it and I are down for the count. And I would like to remind you that taking out one dragon ain't going to help much if Sauron's version of Frankenstein's Monster and his Balrog friends are still roaming free and with all limbs intact."

"Sometimes I wish you would speak something I could understand," Gandalf said touchily, even as the sounds of yet more flames taking root came from the other end of the street.

"Gandalf, we have to get these men out of here," Buffy said urgently, "They can't beat dragon fire. And I'd rather have them guard the next level and perhaps find a handy lake of water to use than have them be dragon kibble."

"If we leave, the Nazgûl shall break in the gate. And then the Balrogs shall enter. For they fear no flame."

But rather than frowning at that little bit of gloom, the wizard watched puzzled as Buffy merely smirked. Half a century's friendship and sometimes he wondered if anyone really knew what went through her mind half the time.

Furthering his surprise, Buffy just nodded, "That should work."

Gandalf's bushy eyebrows drew together like a grouchy caterpillar. He did not like being kept in the dark. Especially when he was in a flaming fire pit with two dragons flying overhead, causing havoc and Sauron's enormous army perched outside the gates. And that 'outside' but was extremely tremulous as they came closer and closer to breaking in.

But Buffy knew what she was doing. The gates were broken; the only thing keeping Sauron's hordes out was the fire. And she knew that the Nazgûl would send in the Balrogs to take them out, counting on the fact that most people would quail and run at the very sight of that fearsome monster from the First Age. Morgoth had created them for such a purpose after all. 'Twas how he had overrun Gondolin, and now his one time lieutenant, Sauron, was employing the same tactics. But Buffy planned on beating him at his own game. She always liked it when cocky world ruler wannabes tipped their hands a mite too early.

"Listen carefully Gandalf," she said quietly, "The Witch-King is not a fool. He has all of this planned to a tee. He is going to burn us out until we have to give up or burn alive. The city is built on stone, it will survive and Sauron only wants everyone dead anyway. The fact that there's no city for Aragorn to return to will only make him that much happier. Of course, he knows we pretty much know that, so he is not going to give us any time to do anything about it. Soon enough, he is going to send in those Balrogs of his, with the plan to basically annihilate us. I am pretty sure that the siege towers will drop quite a few orcs into the levels not burning and so wipe us out with minimum loss to his little army. The perfect rout. Don't you see now?"

Indeed, Gandalf did. "How in Elbereth's name did you find this out?" he demanded.

Buffy blushed slightly, "I, um, looked into the palantír Denethor was so fond of."

"You did _what_!" Gandalf exclaimed, looking close to thumping her, "What part of 'No ringbearer is to have exposure to one of those cursed things' did you not understand!" he hissed angrily.

"I understood that Sauron had something nasty up his sleeve and I wasn't prepared to wait for him to share it." Buffy retorted calmly, "I have been around apocalypse type things in the past, you know. I do recognise when someone's got something in the works. And so I did what I always do - take a peek. Sue me if you want, but I still got the info I needed."

"And what exactly do you plan on doing with it?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I plan on giving the Balrogs a nasty surprise. Suffice it to say that I hope it will be of the lethal variety."

A loud boom and a sudden flaring of flames cut her off and suggested that the fire had penetrated the cellars of some tavern and told her that their time was running out. "C'mon Gandalf," she said, offering the wizard a hand up, "We have to retreat for the moment. And then we can make sure that all hell breaks loose." She paused, "The strange thing is, I'm almost looking forward to it."

****

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At almost the same time that Buffy and Gandalf were plotting, a lone hobbit ran desperately through the chaos stricken streets.

Soldiers rushed past him, heading for either the walls or the wells, and more flooding up from the first level, forming a rising tide that shoved into Pippin. The little hobbit struggled like a salmon going upriver against the current of men going the opposite direction.

Every now and then he stopped a soldier, crying out over the catapult and trebuchet fire, the loud whooshing sounds and the crash of stone against stone, "Gandalf!" he panted every time, "Where is Gandalf? And Buffy! Do you know where they are! I must find them!"

A boulder slammed into the side of the tall building next to him, causing the wall to start crumbling away, blocking the road with rubble and blinding Pippin with its dust, but his response was always the same. Each soldier said that Buffy and Gandalf were down in the snakes' pit that was the first level, which was now lost for certain. He felt his spirit quail and what could await him down there but he knew that he had to get to at least one of them. They had to save Frodo and Sam! They had to!

However, luck was with him. All of a sudden, he spotted a familiar pointed hat though blackened beyond repair, and a familiar voice roaring out from beside the second level gate, "Retreat!" he bellowed impressively, "Retreat you fools! The city is breached. Fall back! Fall back! Hurry! To the second level! Get out of there before it burns around your ears!"

A flood of men poured through the second gate and even as Pippin ran towards it, a rather dishevelled blonde figure raced through the gates.

"Orcs are coming through Gandalf," she panted out, "The Nazgûl are hunting them in. And they fear the wraiths more than the fire. Which screws everything up. The Balrogs won't be far behind them but I couldn't see them in the mess." She shook her head in dismay, clutching the bloody hilt of her sword, "We can't wait any longer! We have to shut the gate! They are coming!"

Equally dismayed at the thought of leaving men behind, Gandalf nodded at the necessity, "Close the gates!" he roared, "Quickly now! Close them now!"

The great gates swung closed, the men barring the entrance with wood and furniture - anything they could use the shore up the gates. A few feet away from them, a line of archers lined up, prepared to shoot over the gates at any who came near.

Pippin skidded to a stop beside the wizard, grabbing at his robes frantically, causing the wizard and slayer to look at him in surprise. "Gandalf!" he huffed out, "You must come! Denethor has run mad! He is spilling Frodo's secrets to the Witch-King! In the Silent Street! You have to come! Before he tells him where they are!"

Gandalf paled dramatically and whistling sharply, called Shadowfax to him. He knew he had no time. "Up!" he said to Pippin, boosting him up onto the horse's back as he himself jumped up.

Buffy sheathed her sword, "Go!" she urged them, "I'll catch up with you there!"

The wizard did not even wait for her to finish. Instead, he sped Shadowfax into a canter faster than any horse in Middle Earth and he and Pippin were gone in a blur of white and silver.

Buffy only stared after them for a moment before passing the command to a stunned Faramir and taking off at the fastest run the slayer could manage.

****

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Gandalf burst into the citadel on Shadowfax, and immediately saw that they whom they sought were in the Silent Street of Rath Dínen no longer. A bruised Denethor cowered against the wall as an irate Witch-King crossed the courtyard on his winged beast. The wraith spotted Gandalf first. And Pippin nervously looked at the outcropping behind them. It was too close for comfort.

The White Rider glowered at the Morgul Lord, before brandishing his staff, "Go back to the abyss." he boomed brusquely, "Go! Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your master."

The Witch-King had the gall to laugh, cold and high pitched and Pippin shivered to hear it. It seemed even worse than that diabolical screeching. He eyed the wizard contemptuously, as if he were a mere twig underfoot, "Do you not know death when you see it, old man?" he said, stalking closer, black holes of eyes locked onto him, ignoring Denethor for the moment as he turned his back on him, "This is my hour, you old fool." He held up his sword, the deadly Nazgûl blade, flame running along the blade at his command.

Pippin gulped but Gandalf seemed unimpressed, holding out his staff and mumbling ancient words under his breath but in a great flash of light, the Witch-King snapped Gandalf's staff in two and the force of the blow threw both wizard and hobbit back and off the horse.

Gandalf lay there for a moment, winded, even as Pippin lay dazed against a wall. Scornfully, the Witch-King dismounted and approached Gandalf, sword bared. in the distance Pippin cried out, "You have failed old man," the Morgul Lord sneered, "The world of Men will fall… As it is doing now. By _my_ hand…"

He raised his sword to slay the wizard but a voice from behind stopped him in his tracks, "What a pretty sentiment," Buffy said derisively, "You should get that framed under the most moronic statement of the year."

Incensed, the Witch-king turned, "You!" he hissed.

"Ah, so you can see through that hood," Buffy said, "And I thought you just aimed so badly because you couldn't see. Guess that just means you are so bad at it. How did you get this job anyway? You're obviously no good at it."

The wraith seethed quietly, the very air around him seeming to freeze, "You dare insult me little girl?" he sneered, "I could kill you in an eye blink."

"I'm thinking not if I kill you first," Buffy said, one hand on her hip, the other holding her sword.

"Fool!" the wraith mocked, "No man can kill me."

Buffy's smile was dark and mocking, "Do I look like a man? Buddy, I left fully human behind decades ago. You think I can't be as dark as you? That I can't kill you? You're dreaming. I always knew that Death could come for us. Any time. Any place. But not me, and not now. Prophecy may say that you will die by no man's hand alright. But care to try me?"

Gandalf staggered to his feet, "Buffy! No!" he cried, "Think of what you must do!"

Buffy met his eyes squarely, "In the end, who else is there? Gandalf, he can stand against one. Not two." she said quietly, determinedly, "Isn't that right?"

"I have toppled kings and kingdoms, whole realms flee before me," the Morgul Lord said contemptuously, "Do not think that you even pose a problem. This city is mine."

"No it's mine." Buffy said firmly, "In keeping for another." A hand reached down to haul Denethor to his feet, "And without this guy, I get the feeling that you are going to be in a whole lot of trouble with your master." Her lips curved into a small smile as she saw the wraith stiffen. "Bingo." she muttered under her breath and then sent a significant glance at Gandalf.

Without a word, the wizard picked up the two ends of his staff.

And silence fell, waiting for the Witch-King to make his move.

****

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Buffy really did not know where this display of courage was coming from. She was standing in front of the Lord of the Nazgûl and his flying beast, holding a struggling Denethor in one hand and a sword in the other. Somewhere in the city, two Balrogs and two Dragons were destroying things and flooding in through the gates was the biggest army she had ever seen. Gandalf was down, his staff cloven in two, just like Boromir's horn. Beside him, Pippin watched in terrified silence. And to make matters worse, she was deliberately goading the Witch-King. Who already wanted to kill her for previous humiliations.

To the casual observer, it would seem that she was suicidal.

Buffy spared a glance at Denethor, feeling nothing but disgust for him. How much had he already betrayed? "So I guess you didn't get what you wanted if you're still here and not flying off to your master?" she said with as much derision in her tone as she could muster, "Still don't know where the One Ring is, do you?" The Witch-King started in surprise, "Oh yes, I know. I know it very well." she said, catching his attention, "And if you thought that Denethor knew anything, you're sadly mistaken. Look at him. Do you think anyone would trust him with such knowledge?"

The Morgul Lord looked at her and in that instant, Buffy knew that he had not bought her bluff. She had feared he might not. And feared what she had to do if so.

She knew that now the Witch-king knew that Denethor knew the One Ring's location, he and his lackeys would never stop hunting Denethor. And Denethor could not be trusted to hold his tongue. He would trade the fate of Middle Earth for a few more minutes of life. She knew it in her bones.

But she had never been a cold-blooded killer; she had never killed for a secret. And with a sickening feeling, she realised that cold-blooded murder was exactly what was required here. Denethor had to be silenced.

But she could not bring herself to be the one to do it. But the foolish steward had said too much as it was. Her blade met Denethor's throat, "Take one step, and I slit his throat." she said to the Witch-King, "And the location dies with him."

Gandalf saw the conflict in her eyes, the wily wizard knowing the predicament and torn himself. With a look that clearly said 'take him and run', he lunged at the Ringwraith, whacking him with his broken staff to distract him and pulling out his sword. Buffy's heart clenched at his bravery and she hauled Denethor along with her as she started to move. The blubbering man came easily at first as she tried to drag him towards the citadel, where she could hide him, but no more than ten paces from where they had begun, Buffy felt cold steel nick her throat.

Spinning around, she avoided Denethor's dagger as he plunged it into the space where she had been. Screaming in rage, teeth bared, he leapt on her, knocking her to the ground as he tried to stab her once more.

A punch to the face sent him reeling back and Buffy took the opportunity to shove him off and flip to her feet. He charged her again, no sign of sanity in those wide eyes and Buffy knew that the Witch-King had broken him. She kicked the blade out of his hand, but he grabbed her sword from her waist and both of them latched onto it in a deadly tug of war.

With a slipping sound, it came loose from its sheath and Denethor, eyes lit up with glee, pounced, grabbing for it but Buffy reached it first, kicking it out of his grip and sending it flying five feet away. Immediately, she went after it, grabbing it and picking it up.

With the bare blade held out, she spun around. - Only for Denethor to crash into her, impaling himself on her blade.

For a moment, all was silence, even the Witch-King staring at this new debacle. Buffy, still holding the blade in a death grip, saw Denethor's eyes widen in pain and horror and they both looked down to see a good foot of steel going through his chest and out his back. For a ghastly moment, their eyes met - Buffy's wide, horrified hazel meeting the bitterly dying ones of Denethor.

Blood poured out onto her wrist, onto her feet, - a never-ending flow of it that tainted Buffy's vision. His life's blood, covering her like a shroud.

With a little jerk, Denethor coughed up blood, chest rattling through the hole and then he fell, death taking him. With a horrified yell, Buffy yanked the sword out. The crimson blade came out with a horrible slurping sound that rang in her ears, and Denethor's corpse fell to the ground with a small thud, eyes open but sightless. Dead.

Crying out, Buffy dropped the sword and brought her hands up to her face. Her blood covered hands. Covered with Denethor's blood. Staggering back a few paces, she let out a hysterical laugh as she sank to the ground, staring at the hands of a murderer. A slayer was supposed to protect, to kill demons. Since coming to Middle Earth, she had killed in war but never anyone she knew. Never face to face. She had never had to look into dying eyes.

She had just done what had turned Faith.

She had crossed the line. She was a killer. Some part of her tried to point out that it was Denethor who attacked her, but the greatest part of her mind kept staring at Denethor's dead body. And the blood covered sword that lay near it.

The sky was starting to lighten even as her mind darkened with horror, and so caught up in its thrall was she, that she did not sense the danger behind her. Did not see Gandalf thrown against the wall, did not see the Witch-king coming with sword bared.

She dodged the first blow by instinct but then cold hands grabbed her wrists, pushing her down flat, a Nazgûl blade at her throat even as Gandalf and Pippin shouted out for her to do something. Her eyes were wide, nearly unseeing, and she stared into the darkness of the Witch-king's face as it moved to kill her.

It seemed what went around came around.

She was going to pay thrice over for her mistake.

She closed her eyes, '_I am so sorry Aragorn….'_

****

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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 17. - dawn.

Cold steel plunged towards Buffy's throat as the dawn burst over the horizon, the first light since the shadow had started pouring out from Mordor.

But just as Buffy felt her death was imminent, a sound split the air, faint at first but growing louder until it echoed around the city. Surprised, the Witch-king stopped, his blade halting, and the sound came again. And again. And again.

It was a horn.

Its notes were clear and bright, ringing throughout the stone walls of the city, causing defenders to feel renewed hope and vigour while enemies felt a chill in their bones.

The Rohirrim had come at last.

Recognising it, the Witch-King near forgot about Buffy as he raced to the wall, to see what it was. Buffy staggered up and followed him. And nearly wept when she saw what was there.

On the hill, on the very edge of the Pelennor Fields, a ling line of riders stood silhouetted against the dawn, ranks upon ranks of them, stretching down in a long line like the crest of a wave. As one, they blew their horns and the armies upon the Pelennor looked up from their siege of the city, to see the thousands of the finest riders in Middle Earth looking down upon them.

"Éomer…" Buffy breathed in profound relief, and her whisper dragged the Witch-king from his stupor and for a moment, he looked at her, as if contemplating whether to finish her off. She held his gaze now and he turned to go, knowing he had no time.

Reinforcements had come.

It was a whole new war.

And for the first time in what seemed like eternity, Buffy began to hope that they just might win it after all….

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A/N: Well? Opinions please people! How does the battle go so far! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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Next chapter: Trouble with firepower and spectres… Faramir finds yet more trouble… Thranduil battles to save his kingdom…. The Rohirrim show Gondor how it's done… And Big Trouble at the Battle of the Pelennor Fields….

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Elvish:

Oropherion - son of Oropher

Nín aran - my king

Glamhoth - orcs

Ellyth - Elf-maids

Dagorlad - the Battle Plain

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Dol Amroth - the royalty of Dol Amroth are believed to have an Elven foremother in their line. Stronghold of Gondor on Belfalas, named after Amroth King of Lórien (deceased.).

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Gondolin - called the Hidden City or the Hidden Realm. Founded and ruled by Turgon, son of Fingolfin, in the First Age. Eventually destroyed by Morgoth.

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Imrahil - Prince of Dol Amroth at the time of the War of the Ring. The line of the Princes of Dol Amroth is said to be of Elvish descent, a foremother being a Silvan Elf and a handmaiden of the Elleth Nimrodel of Lórien. Father of Lothíriel. Denethor's brother-in-law. Uncle to Faramir and Boromir.

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Lothíriel - daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, wife of King Éomer of Rohan and mother of Elfwine the Fair.

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Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

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Morgoth - the Dark Lord of the First Age. A fallen Vala, he destroyed the Two Trees of Valinor, Laurelin and Telparion, and killed Fëanor's father, the King of the Noldor. He decimated the armies of the First Age until at last a host from Valinor came to Middle Earth, and waged war on him for forty years before he was thrown down. Is not dead but trapped in the Void.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Mundburg - 'Guardian Fortress'. name in Rohan of Minas Tirith.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

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Palantír - one of the seven seeing stones that were scattered throughout Gondor and Arnor during the reign of Elendil. For the last few centuries, they have been considered unsafe to use as it is believed that one of them is in the possession of Sauron.

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Pelennor fields - 'Fenced Land'. The 'town lands' of Minas Tirith. Guarded by the wall of Rammas Echor.

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Rammas Echor - out-wall. For ten leagues or so it ran, from the mountains' feet and back again, enclosing in its fence the fields of the Pelennor.

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Rath Dinen - 'The Silent Street' in Minas Tirith.

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The Citadel - the High Court. The Place of the Fountain beneath the feet of the White Tower.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

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«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	54. Desperate Courage Part 1

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, which if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?

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Author's notes: Yay of all yays, I have found and purchased my laptop! After a month of searching! Say hello to the HP Pavilion dv1000!

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P.S – I split this chapter into two because it was frankly, too much to handle in one. You would have been waiting another week at least if I hadn't. Hope you don't mind too much!

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Review responses:

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Allen Pitt - Pippin was scared and non-suicidal and Denethor had already told the Witch-King enough to let him know it was not Pippin. And sadly, guns don't look to be available in Middle Earth anytime soon…

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Anna aka liit06 - thank you! And come on! You guys were all telling me to kill Denethor! You can't complain now! And the Witch-King is sneaky but he has yet to meet one hell of a mad woman….

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Athene Saile - thanks! Guilt, I think, is something any decent warrior is going to feel at some point or another. But then again, slayers tend to channel grief into fighting, so anything's game.

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Broken Whispers - thank you! Okay, to answer your question, Gandalf is trying to get Buffy to fulfil her destiny. About the Balrogs, think mayhem, death and destruction. And you might be onto something with Buffy and Aragorn….

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Ellie – Sorry, can't say. But I am the Queen of Cliffhangers so I can't say no.

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EverAfter-01 - thanks! And yes, Thranduil and Buffy have always gotten along well in this story! And what about Shakespeare? I had to do Hamlet for my finals and let's just say that I am heartily sick of it! And yes, Romeo and Juliet is definitely a contender for the most depressing ending title.

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Gems7529 - thanks! And welcome!

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JuliansGIrl - Neither do I, but I was just trying to illustrate how much it shocked Buffy. She never expected to kill Denethor. Or him running himself onto her sword. I know she is not like Faith was when the other slayer had her incident but it is probably the closest experience Buffy has to accidentally killing someone face to face.

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Lali-chan - thanks! Yes, Aragorn is not far behind now. And why shouldn't I fill the battle with monsters? I never did like making things too easy for people now, did I? About Thranduil… I think it's a Wood Elf thing… After all, my Legolas had to get it from somewhere… Logic? Buffy not big on logic really. More like gut instinct and a knack for annoying the Big Bads. And yes, if Buffy ever becomes a queen, she is likely to scandalise every 'civilised' lady or gentleman present. And don't worry, Faramir gets his due in this chapter! You didn't think I would forget him did you? And Suffering is always part of the equation… No, Big Trouble is not the name of the monster but more like a friendly nickname… and yes, there is a sequel, all planned out and ready to be written after I finish First Knight.

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Light _Spinner_ – thank you! And Buffy and Aragorn will meet up soon enough! (Cackles)

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Maleficus Lupinus – thank you! Yeah, I loved the Rohirrim's entrance too! They really saved the day! And I think I just wore out the clutch by 'stepping on the gas' at your order!

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NiennaFaelivrin - thank you! And yes, I definitely think there should be more Aragorn/Buffy and Éomer/Buffy stories. As much as I love Legolas, that pairing did get a little old. And there's about eight or nine chapters left of FK. And yes, there will be a sequel, provisionally titled 'A Knight's Tale'.

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RedsLover03 - (bows) Thank you! And well, Faramir is a little busy in this chapter, so he has a lot on his mind. And Buffy and Aragorn will meet again in the next chapter or two. Before that, they will both be in the chapters just not actually seeing each other face to face yet.

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Reyavie - thank you! Yep, no more Denethor. He is so not coming back. And I hope that that edge of the seat wasn't too uncomfortable!

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SelenaWolf - wow, thanks! There's a bit of Thranduil's fight in this chapter and the Lórien plot is told more from Galadriel's POV. There will be glimpses of Elrond. Can't say when though. No, Buffy didn't snap but then again, I've got a lot planned for her. And everyone…

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Selene – Aragorn soon.

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Tenshikoneko03 - thank you! And you missed the Nazgûl, the orcs, the Haradrim, the Easterlings and the Mumâkil. Glad you liked the way Denethor died. I thought it was fitting.

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The Great and Powerful Oz - thanks! And as for 'History Repeats Itself', I passed it onto another author to continue back around February. So far, nothing has been forthcoming. Sorry!

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The Lady Reaper of the Shadows - well, I was thinking of specialising in torture for a while but I switched to cliffhangers…

_Tommy Byrn_ – Oh yeah! Definitely!

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Wild320 - No, she won't go to the dark side. It's not really her. Even if she does look good in black!

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XinnLajgin - Sorry to ask, but I didn't get what you meant by 'Queen Buffy? Yeah when hell freezes over'. Could you clarify? Thanks!

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And major thanks to:

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Anyanka of the Ocean, BuffyandDracoLover, cat, General Mac, Jaguar, Kamui Gaia 07, Lady Meridia, Ms8309, Nicole,

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CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR: DESPERATE COURAGE PART ONE

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"Victory - victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror; victory, however long and hard the road may be."

- Winston Churchill, British Prime Minister, 1940

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Lothlórien, 3019 TA, March 17.

The strain on her face would not have been obvious even to a sharp observer. Only those that truly knew her could see the tension that filled her and took the edge off her usual grace. She knew the defences had to hold or Lórien would fall before the Dark Lord and she knew that it was Nenya that was her only advantage.

It was not a light burden.

Galadriel sat on the mound among the flowering elanor, idly twirling one flower in her hand, resting and waiting for the raid that would inevitably come. Her beloved Celeborn was at the borders, seeing to the defence but leaving her alone amongst Edhil who could never understand what she must do. She had sent even her handmaidens away, despite their reluctance, - what she must do she must do it alone.

It was in times like these that she missed her daughter so much it ached. Her darling Celebrían, now on the other side of the Sundering Sea, hopefully healed and whole in the light of the Undying Lands, had been mauled by orcs and ever since that day, she and her husband had nursed a seething hatred towards the twisted creatures and their master. She wished that Celebrían were here now, to cheer her, or even Arwen, to give her comfort. But her grandchildren were scattered to the four winds of Middle Earth, and she knew not whether they would see them safely home. Nobody's safety could be guaranteed in this time of war.

Once, she had wanted – nay, nearly demanded – the right to be a leader. Born in Aman, she had lived under the rule of Finwë and then Fëanor and had burned for the chance to be able to live by her own rules, and not those of her elders. Therefore, when Fëanor persuaded the Noldor to leave the Undying Lands and to venture to Middle Earth, she had been most eager to go, despite her father's protests. She had found her freedom, but at a grievous price. Ever proud, she had refused to return to Aman at the end of the First Age, despite the fact that she was the only leader of the Noldorin revolt still living. Because of her refusal, the Valar had then denied her passage across the Sea and she felt the hurt deeply now that the sea longing stirred in her heart. Her last hope for the West, and to see her daughter again, had been to pass a test. To deny the power of the One Ring. She had passed, and would go into the West one day and remain Galadriel in body and soul. However, some part of her feared that Celeborn would not come with her. Born in Doriath, in the time before sun or moon, he had never seen the light of the Two Trees and as one of the Sindar, had always had deep ties to Middle Earth. He would not surrender his home so easily.

So for her, the war was froth with evil whichever end came to pass.

Her grandchildren had yet to make their choice, though Arwen it seemed would now cleave to Elf-kind after all, thanks to a Woodland Prince, but the twins were not yet certain. If Lórien survived, she would have to make the choice between peace and her daughter in the West and her home and husband in Middle Earth. Nevertheless, if they won, the time of the Elves was ending and the dominion of Men would grow. It would be a bitter pill to swallow after so many millennia.

And yet, she could not let the Shadow have what time would rightly take. Her home.

For nigh on five thousand years had Lothlórien or Lórinand as it had once been, stood un-assailed. Ever since Nenya was delivered into her hands by a repentant Celebrimbor, the Golden Wood had stood safe even when Sauron ravaged Middle Earth. It had stood safe even when the wood had incurred his wrath at the sack of Eregion, when he had been hale and whole and at the height of his power.

Ironic that now bodiless and far away in Mordor, Sauron was finally able to strike at her heart.

Her head snapped up as she felt something pass along the borders of her woods. Rank and evil, she knew them for what they were. The next wave of orcs was here.

Standing, she brushed the blades of grass off her immaculate dress and started to make her way there, Nenya glowing gently.

When had it come to this?

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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 17.

The Witch-King did not wait for Buffy or Gandalf to recover. Instead, he climbed onto his beast and flew away; its powerful wings raising a small wind as it took off, leaving neither wizard nor slayer any time to lunge for him and see whether Denethor had revealed anything or not. For if the Witch-king knew about Frodo's errand and where he was, then if he got word to Sauron, Mordor would be locked up tighter than a Dwarf's treasure chest and all of this fighting would be for nothing.

Because if Sauron knew where the One Ring was, then very little could stop him from reclaiming his prize.

But they had no time to worry about what Denethor might have told, and what he actually knew. Not when they had an army at their heels and reinforcements had come to give them a real chance at last. Éomer had held to the Oath of Eorl; now they had to make sure that Minas Tirith upheld its part of the bargain. They had to make sure that the Rohirrim had a fighting chance because even if Éomer had managed to gather all his riders, they would not be enough to break the lines. There were roughly two hundred thousand enemies out there. Beside that figure, the numbers of the defenders, both Rohirrim and Gondorian, were paltry indeed.

But somehow, they would have to make it work.

Buffy looked at the wizard and the still shocked Pippin, and then at the withered White Tree, "One of us is going to have to kill him, you know." she said, almost conversationally, "Since I have a few Balrogs and dragons to deal with, I vote you."

"He will die by no man's hand," Gandalf told her, "And so it seems, by neither of ours either. Leave him for now. We know not what Denethor told him but he cannot use it now. He knows that he needs to defeat us before he can pursue anything else. Let us thank the Rohirrim for buying us the time we need."

"Buying us time?" Buffy repeated, "They are going to get slaughtered if we don't do something. They don't have walls to hide behind! I can't just stand back and let Éomer take a beating."

The wizard's stare was calculating, "Do what you must, Dagnir, do what you must. I must speak to Imrahil. Time has been bought and it will be paid for in blood. It is time to use the trebuchets. Whatever you do, we must defend the walls."

Buffy nodded shortly, "Great. You couldn't by any chance aim at the dragons, could you? 'Cos that might just help. And as for your 'defend the walls' thing, I say that the gates are now open wide and methinks the orcs are going to take advantage. The Rohirrim are here, I gotta hope that Aragorn's on his way too."

"His path is a dangerous one," Gandalf warned.

"I know that," she replied quietly, "Ghosts and ghouls are always nasty to deal with. But let's face it, we kinda need a miracle. The Rohirrim are hugely outnumbered, I intend to ride out and help them."

"Are you mad!" Gandalf said, "Those walls are our only safety."

The slayer nodded thoughtfully, "I know." she replied, "But the Witch-king knows that too. And there is nothing stopping him from sending in orcs to bash their way into the upper levels. Nothing. Except I intend to get in his way big time. I intend to hug the walls and make sure no more get in than what already has. We have no choice. We _must_ get them from the rear. We have to do something to keep their attention or the Rohirrim will be slaughtered."

"_You_ will be slaughtered yourself!" the wizard protested.

"No, I won't." Buffy said firmly, face set in determination, "Not if they think I'm as dangerous as the Witch-king. They fear him for his sorcery. I'll make them fear mine. I'll lead out whoever will go. And if no one will, I'll do it myself. I'll be the assassin Gandalf and you'll be the general."

Gandalf nodded, knowing now that there would be no dissuading her, "Getting yourself killed serves no purpose," the Istar said meaningfully, "Whatever you would like to avoid. I know you're not used to it but trust in Aragorn, Buffy, I know he's coming."

"I know he will." Buffy said quietly, turning away from him, "He keeps his word… And I keep mine."

She gave him no chance to reply, moving away at a swift pace, until she was running through the maze of streets, back to the lowest levels of the city. In her heart, she knew that Aragorn and her friends would come, even if the fires of Angband stood between them and the city. But she did not know when, and she could not afford to wait.

She had seen what Sauron planned and she would not let him have it. Not if she had to stand before the gates of Gondor alone. She had seen it in her dreams; the creeping fire that would consume the city, the Pelennor Fields awash with blood, the guarded city tumbling to the ground, and her own blood staining the grass. She had felt it before, before Angel turned into Angelus. She had been warned again now, and this time she would heed it.

She had barely leaped over the walls, dropping down many feet into the flaming first level, when she saw the figure moving in the blaze.

The first crack of its whip was swiftly sidestepped, barely fazing at her at all. She was beyond caring, as she wilfully stepped into the cold place in her heart where a slayer roared; the assassin of the undead unleashed at last. For once in all her years as a slayer, she was giving it free rein, without concern as to whether she would be able to step back again. Wilfully or not, she had killed a man, and now to save a city, she would have to kill many. Whatever the outcome of this day, she would be changed.

She had been cold before, when she thought Aragorn was dead before the Battle of Helms Deep. She had been filled with a strange cold rage, one that would have allowed her to slay anything in her path in cold blood. It was a weapon, one that she had never liked, one that stepped too close to a slayer's origins, her demonic origins, but one that she would have to employ now.

She could not handle it on her own. She admitted it now. She could not handle it on her own. But somehow, she had to try.

Eyes colder than glaciers met the Balrog's as she thought of what this monster would do if it got half a chance. Created by the Dark Lord Morgoth in the First Age, from Maiar that he warped and changed, the Balrogs had been a plague on Middle Earth. They knew no mercy, dealt only evil and revelled in razing cities to the ground.

She would show them none in return.

She did not even bother to draw her sword as she let Narya's eerie calm envelope her, feeling the glow surround her like she had seen Galadriel do, letting the Balrog see who he was facing.

The Balrog paused and then lunged. The knife was already in her hand. The runes on the Elven blade glowed like molten fire as she sent it flying through the air. Her aim was true and it pierced the Balrog's chest, the power infused it in by Narya making sure that the Balrog did not escape the deadly metal.

After a second, the Balrog staggered back a step and fell over. She stepped over the body calmly. And looked at the orcs who stared between her and the Balrog. "Tell the Witch-King that the slayer is open for business," she ordered. They took another look at the Balrog and the smarter ones left. Only the stupid remained. 

Her sword in hand, she cut a path through to the gate, trying to hide the small trembles of tiredness that plagued her.

There could be no sign of weakness now.

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Manning the gate on the level above from Buffy, the gate that had yet to fall was taking a beating. The Nazgûl swooped overhead intermittently, carrying away Men with every pass, and terrifying all. Faramir was in charge of this gate, while Imrahil held the one on the next level up, where the trebuchets and catapults had been moved.

He had seen Buffy, moving swifter than he could see, only making out a short blonde blur with a distinctly feminine cast as they leaped over the wall and landed on their feet like a cat.

He knew not where Mithrandir had found her, this she-warrior that rumour said was the Heir of Isildur's lady, and to him, seemed a peculiar mix of insanity, will and wit. 'Twas never easy to know where one stood with her, even in his short acquaintance with her; half of the time she was sarcasm itself, and the other she was as serious as a wizard. In fact, he had almost been tempted to ask whether there was such a thing as female wizards since Gandalf had arrived. He had never seen a woman that threw herself into battle and not with such aplomb; - she insulted orcs as she killed him for the Valar's sake!

But still, he had no time to spare checking out what harebrained scheme she concocted this time, even if she did carry the Ring of Barahir, - not when they were in the direst battle in Gondor's history. Even when the Men of Gondor and Arnor had marched to Mordor under Elendil's banner in the Second Age, they had laid siege to Barad-dûr. Never had the Shadow laid siege to Gondor, and not in such numbers.

A great shriek split the air, causing men to wince in pain and tremble even as Faramir roared, "Nazgûl!"

Men skittered back, half of the bows swinging away from the gate to point at the sole Nazgûl that was attempting to land on their side of the gate. Faramir held his sword up and thirty bows sang, arrows flying through the air to pierce the foul Ringwraith. Most of them hit, but not one of them fazed the Nazgûl, who ripped them out almost contemptuously.

Faramir stood his ground, "You will not enter this city," he said grimly.

The wraith only laughed at him, and drew its sword. Its fell beast snapped and roared, head swivelling as it searched for fresh meat. Faramir took a step forward, "You will leave," he demanded.

The Nazgûl sneered at him and its beast took a lunge at him. Faramir's sword swung and took a gouge out of its neck. Bellowing in pain, it pulled back and the wraith was forced to grab the reins as it thrashed its head. It glared at the man through its hood. He could not see any face or eyes beneath, but he felt the weight of that malevolent stare.

Suddenly, the beast moved forward and Faramir barely ducked as the Nazgûl blade whizzed by his head, hearing the horrified cries of his men, and knowing that he stood in the way of any arrows that might have driven the wraith back. Bringing his own blade to bear, he met steel with steel, knowing that no man yet had been able to kill a Nazgûl. He was not like Boromir, he had been a scholar before he had been a soldier, and he had read enough about the Ringwraiths to chill the marrow of his bones. Maybe Mithrandir could stand against a Nazgûl and win, but a simple man could not.

Ducking another swipe, he dived underneath the Nazgûl's reach and skidded along the stone ground alongside the beast. Even as his momentum carried him along, his sword was out and carved a line in the fell beast's side for every inch he moved. The beast roared and thrashed and the sudden movement threw the wraith forward, nearly unseating him. The beast continued to thrash, but the Nazgûl was not finished with Faramir. As the man was clambering away from the beast, it lashed out with its blade and neatly sliced open his arm. Faramir gasped even as he jerked back out of its reach as it once more took off into the sky.

The wound burned fiercely, and yet seemed colder than the deepest snow. His vision swam and for a moment he swayed in the grasp of the men that had rushed to his aid. Shaking his head to clear it, he stood on his own and gestured for them to get back to work, back to the gate.

There was nothing they could do for the Black Breath.

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Buffy hated it when she miscalculated.

As she bolted to the streets of the lowest level, with what had to be about fifty orcs and a dozen Haradrim on her tail, she had to admit to herself that maybe, just maybe, it was not possible to hold the passage on her own. The rational side of her said it was bloody impossible, as Giles would put it, and even the Slayer voice seemed to be saying 'way too many'! After all, it was in no way fair that they got elephants – elephants! – and Gondor got… well, nothing.

Knocking over a pile of carefully stacked boxes, she got some pleasure that first of all, they should trip up her pursuers and second, that she was way faster than them. On the lookout for a handy place to try to rejump the wall without getting shot, because the defenders were not going to open the gate for anybody at this point, she failed to see the small problem that Faramir had just unwittingly set her way.

The shadow on the ground was the first warning she got and even as her head shot up, she was diving back. With a loud thud and an awful shriek, the fell beast smashed into the ground, blood pouring from its neck and side from what the Slayer could see. Its Nazgûl rider landed in an ungainly pile atop of her and Buffy wasted no time for one solid push threw the wraith off of her and against the opposite wall.

Seething in anger at being challenged again, it got up smoothly, sword in hand, not sparing a glance for its dying beast. Buffy nodded to herself, "Yep, someone really doesn't want me to survive this." she muttered under her breath before she flashed a dangerous smile at the Nazgûl, "I'd ask if you felt like just going our separate ways, but then I remember that you are a wraith, and therefore just want to kill me, right? I don't suppose we could take this duel to the death somewhere else maybe?"

It snarled and advanced, "I will peel your skin off and feed it to the orcs," it sneered.

Buffy cocked her head to one side, "_That's_ your best insult?" she asked, "I've done better in my sleep. And just so you get the message, mister, I have died _way _too many times to fear it now."

The Nazgûl looked at her strangely, "So you are the one…." it hissed, "Serve the Dark Lord and your life will be spared. You will be exalted above these mortals."

Buffy pretended to think about it, "Gee… what an offer!" she said and then with no warning, charged at him. The wraith reared back as her blade sank into its abdomen and did not turn to dust. "You just can't beat Elven blades, can you?" she said teasingly, and then parried a blow from his Nazgûl blade. She flipped over his attempt to kick her feet out from under her, he avoided her attempt to spear him to the stone wall and so they danced around each other, swords out, each waiting for an opening.

However, after minutes where the clash of steel and the grunts of the combatants was the only sound apart from the roar of flames, Buffy got her chance. As he swung to try to take off his head, he left his right side open and her blade sank into his shrivelled heart just as his sunk into her shoulder. Both cried out but Buffy recovered first, and as flames swept along her blade, she yanked it out and took off his head.

A shrill, dying shriek pierced the air; a ghostly mist rose up from the black figure, pushing her back and down, clutching her bleeding shoulder on the ground as the mist dissipated and left only black garments on the ground, with no substance between them at all.

The sound of orcs behind her, only kept at bay by the Nazgûl, jolted her to her senses. She staggered to her feet, gripping the wall with her good hand for support. Picking up her sword with deadened fingers, she sheathed it as she ran through the streets, circling back around to the second level gate.

A figure above her cut out the little light she had, and the smoke from the many fires choked her, as it opened its mouth and let out another great ball of fire, throwing the alleys ahead of her into a mist of burning and charring rubble. Totally impassable. Drawing her cloak tight around her, and holding the cloth in front of her face to try to breathe properly, she picked her way through the maze of fire, knowing that only death at the hand of a horde of orcs, Easterlings and Haradrim awaited her if she went back the other way, she struggled on.

Her eyes watered from the smoke, the haze and flames stealing her sight, the thunderous ever on going beat of the drums, the roars of enemies and defenders, the regular smashing of stones into city and fields, deafened her. Moreover, her exhaustion was growing palpable. When was the last time she had slept? Or ate? Or drank more than a sip?

Blindly going on, hearing the closing sounds of pursuit behind her, she at last saw the gate to the second level. Made of wood and steel, it was being bombarded and battered by a good three hundred or so of the enemy and already showed signs of splintering. It would not last another ten minutes. Buffy sighed, and grabbing her bow, nocked it and too aim. The first few fell easily, caught unawares, the next few, spotted her quickly and charged. Buffy dodged and circling round a half burned house, bolted up the path they had cleared and leaped onto one of the ladders they were throwing up against the wall. Hauling herself up with one arm, she threw herself over the wall before cutting the ropes anchoring the ladder and sending it crashing back to the ground.

Leaning against the wall, breathing hard, she caught Faramir's blatantly incredulous stare, "Sorry I'm late," she said with a small grin that quickly morphed into a grimace as she stood up, "I had a little Nazgûl trouble."

He eyed her dishevelled state, "What did you do?" he asked slowly.

Buffy clapped him on the shoulder, "Oh nothing." she said airily, "I just made him an offer he couldn't survive."

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After hastily telling Faramir to be ready to retreat to the third level, Buffy pounded up there herself, heading for the catapults. She had just about enough Wizard's Fire left to load one more catapult. Maybe. And she definitely had a use for it.

Storming past Imrahil and company with a face like thunder, she unceremoniously knocked two Gondorian soldiers off one catapult and smearing some tar on the already loaded boulder, she dumped the rest of the Wizard's Fire onto it. Taking aim at the big flying dragon with an expert eye, she waited until the opportune moment and then with cut the cords on the catapult.

The boulder flew through the air and struck its target. The dragon roared as the stone slammed neatly into its middle and Buffy saw narrowed eyes widen comically for a moment before the boulder met fire and blew up, scattering dragon kibble across the ground below.

For a second, fighting stopped on both sides as they saw the dragon meet its end. The other dragon roared dangerously at the loss of its comrade. Buffy handed control of the catapult back to the stunned soldiers, "A word of advice," she said as she walked away, "Learn to improvise. It tends to save your butt. What are you looking at me like that for? Don't just stand there! Go kill something!"

After that display, Imrahil was really beginning to wonder if Gondor would ever survive Buffy, the return of the King or not…

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Éowyn was not the only one gaping as the Rohirrim crested the hill and got their first look at the Pelennor Fields and the siege of Gondor. Her brother's face was sober as he took in the destruction. The lower levels of Gondor were in flames and the city itself was surrounded by tens upon tens of thousands of orcs.

Éowyn did not see how anybody could win this battle. They were outnumbered by at least ten to one. In front of her, Merry held his breath, "By the Green Dragon…" he whispered, "So many… What are we going to do?"

Éowyn was wondering much the same thing, but she mustered her courage. She would not falter at this final hurdle. She had come here to fight, and fight she would. "We fight." she said simply, "We do what we came here to do." She hugged the hobbit closely, "Courage, Merry. Courage for our friends." she whispered in his ear.

At the head of the line, Éomer rode out, Gamling, Grimbold and Elfhelm beside him. Éomer was speaking and she could barely hear him even though she was not that far away. "Elfhelm, take your éored down the left flank." she heard him order, still unused to having to think of himself as king instead of Third Marshal. "Gamling, follow the King's banner down the centre. Grimbold, take your company right. Cut down everything in your path. Scatter them and drive them towards the river. Mordor shall not cow us!"

Looking at the scared and grim faces of the riders, he sped Firefoot into a canter, riding along the lines of the Rohirrim, knowing that their courage hung by a thread as they watched the legions of Mordor make ready for them, "Arise!" he shouted, "Arise Riders of Rohan!" he bellowed, and Éowyn and Merry had to duck their heads as he rode by, in fear that he would recognise them. "Arise! Today is the day we fight! We shall not be cowed by this host of Mordor! We are free men! We shall not let the Dark Lord win! Spears shall be shaken! Shields shall be splintered! Nevertheless, we will fight! For a red day and a red dawn! Ready your spears!"

Éowyn looked at Éomer in surprise. She knew that he had not expected the crown to come to him, but as he spoke, as he bolstered the men's courage, he had been a king. A true king. Théoden King had left a good successor, whether that successor knew it or not. She hoped she lived to tell him so. She could not tell him now. She was quite sure that even on the crest of the Pelennor, if he found out she was here, he would still try to turn her aside or tie her to a tree or some other such nonsense.

She looked at Merry and marvelled at his courage. He was half the size of a man and yet seemed to have more courage than ten. She leaned towards him, "Whatever happens, stay with me." she said softly, "I'll look after you. Stay with me."

Merry gave her a quick grin but she could see his nervousness, even as Éomer held out his sword. "Ride now!" her brother cried, drawing rein in the centre of the field, "Ride now! Ride! Ride for ruin, and the world's ending! Ride! Forth Eorlingas!"

Éowyn shared a last glance with Merry and steadied her hold on her spear as Merry drew his sword and then they and every rider was galloping forth, streaming towards the Pelennor Fields, and to battle.

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Éowyn and Merry leaned down low on their horse as they slammed into the lines of Mordor, shields up to protect them from glancing blades and arrows. Her spear ripped through the orcs as she thrust it wildly and Merry helped her out by stabbing anything that came too close.

The foul stench of the orcs and men became very apparent at such close quarters and here it was also mixed with the inexplicable smell of death. Her nose wrinkled, her stomach heaved, and Merry did not seem much better. So this was the battles that Éomer had warned her about. Well, she was not running; she was holding her ground. Around her, she heard the marshals and her brother barking out commands to the Riders, and she barely ducked in time as a barrage of arrows came at them from the orcs.

In her mind, it was all a jumble of men and horses and orcs, mixed with screams and shouts and the clash of metal on metal. Nowhere did she see the ordered ranks like in tails. Instead, it was every man and orc for themselves while following their captains' shouts. However, it was exhilarating all the same. The Rohirrim tore through the orcs and saw them run in front of them to get away, the green and white banner of Rohan being carried throughout the Pelennor. She heard Éomer roar, "Drive them to the river! Make safe the city!" above the din and saw how the riders forced their enemies before them, until they were scattering and wheeling and then the Rohirrim rode past the walls of Minas Tirith as they gathered there around their king.

Her sword slashed at nearby foes, with Merry's Westernesse steel flashing beside her, and she wheeled her horse around at the city walls and turned to face the expanse of field.

While she looked towards the river, Merry tugged on her arm. She looked at him questioningly, nothing his very wide eyes. "What?" she asked.

"Éowyn?" he said nervously, "What in the name of the Green Dragon are those things?" he asked, pointing into the distance where a row of great lumbering shapes, as big as houses, stomped towards them.

The White Lady of Rohan just stared for a moment with eyes as big as the hobbits, "I do not know Merry," she said faintly, "But somehow, I do not think they are anything good."

Merry nodded vigorously, "It is times like these that I wish Gandalf was here." He eyed the Mûmakil again, with no little trepidation, "Definitely."

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By this time, in Minas Tirith, the third gate was taking a battering and Buffy, Gandalf, Faramir, Imrahil and Pippin stared at it in dismay. Buffy looked sideways at Faramir and Gandalf, "Remind me to see what deal Gimli would do on decent gates," she said, only half joking, "Because this is ridiculous."

"It is called a battering ram," Faramir supplied helpfully.

Buffy just glared at him, glad to have any chance to take her mind off the pain in her arm, "Well, duh." she drawled, "I'd never have known. And here I thought it was a big fluffy bunny! Okay, has anyone got any ideas besides leaving the Rohirrim to their own devices?"

"Éomer knows what has to be done and he was an excellent Third Marshal, he will be an excellent king." Gandalf said, voice tinged with slight annoyance at Buffy's constantly impatient attitude. In his opinion, all of the slayer's limited patience had disappeared since her arrival in the city and the longer they were here, the worse her temper seemed to get. He could excuse a certain amount of it for battle nerves but such a thing seemed almost ridiculous to contemplate in a slayer, and especially one that had been a lieutenant in Gondor's army many years ago.

But cranky she was.

Buffy had to do something. She knew she had to keep active. Because if she gave in to the pain, she was not going to be much use to anyone. Once the battle fervour dimmed, exhaustion set in ten times as hard. She had no intention of letting that happen until Minas Tirith was safe.

She could see the Rohirrim rip through the ranks of Mordor but she could also see the Mûmakil that they did not. And they were really not like the elephants of her world. For one thing, they were weapons, had trunks longer than cars, and were bigger than most houses. They could destroy the Rohirrim. She was not built to wait and watch, that was better left to people like Elrond and Galadriel, who had the patience for it. She was not one to sit out a fight when she did not have to. And she itched to go do something, well anything. They had one Istar, two lords and a hobbit to take care of things here. Why should she have to stay and wait for the next gate to fall when she could be out there killing orcs? It ruined her clothes but anything she could do to help relieve pressure on the upper levels would be most welcome.

And what about the monster? She had not seen it in a while and she did not like letting something that dangerous walk about without her even knowing where it was causing mischief and trouble. The Balrog was out of the Rohirrim's way, busy cutting up the first and second levels, and the dragon was wary of coming too near the catapults lest it go the way of the other one. In theory, it was pretty quiet. To her, it was dangerous. She never liked the baddies plotting behind her back.

And she could not let Éomer and Éowyn take the fall for a creature that was only here because of her. She would not allow it to hurt her friends. No, it was her problem, - she had to be the one that dealt with it.

Debating what to do, what to risk, what to chance, she leaned against the stone rail and looked towards the river. As she did, it was almost as if she had stepped out of her body for a moment. On the horizon, she saw ships with black sails docking but when she blinked, she was herself again and there was not even a hint of a sail anywhere near the river. What in Arda's name was that? she wondered. Okay, this was not the time to start seeing things.

Looking at the wizard, deep in discussion with the other three, she knew what she had to do. She had to find that monster before it could make a serious dent in the Rohirrim lines, and if Éowyn was out there, she probably could use some back up.

And it might get rid of the creepy feeling she had that something was about to go very wrong very soon…

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Knowing that death waited for the unwary on a field of battle so large, Buffy stuck to the shadows as she descended down to the first level. The flames that barred her sight also barred the orcs and men's view of her, allowing her to stealthily creep by pockets of them unseen. She was almost thankful that she was soot covered. It worked well for camouflage.

She clung to the wall as she made her way to the great gates, mentally going over how crazy this whole idea was. But then a little voice reminded her that she had promised Boromir that she would guard the White City, and another pointed out that Sauron would like nothing better than to see Minas Tirith burn to a crisp, preferably with everyone still inside it.

Slipping out like a pro, she swiftly located a riderless horse from one of the downed Rohirrim, and awkwardly clambered up onto the large stallion. Seriously, without being a slayer, she would have needed a mounting block to get on a horse.

Wheeling the skittish mount around and out of the firing range, she took a second to study the nice big herd of Mûmakil heading her way. She looked at the horse, who also seemed to be staring at the great big stomping beasts with the nasty pointed tusks, and then shook her head, "Elephants. Great. Got any mice or peanuts?" she said, rummaging in the saddlebags, "Apparently not."

Hazel eyes also scanned the galloping whirl of riders for the slender figure of Éowyn, but all even she could make out was a mass of green and steel and horses. She could pick out Éomer easily enough with his armour but his sister had needed to blend in and it seemed that she had made an excellent job of it. To make matters worse, the last dragon was flying overhead, incinerating anything it felt like. The only good thing about that was that it did not seem to be discriminating between the good guys and the bad guys. The bad thing was it was getting a little hard to avoid getting fried in the chaos. And she did not have a clue what to do about it.

Spurring the horse onwards, she drew out her sword and killed anything within its reach as she rode out into the middle of the field. Behind her now, she could hear Éomer trying to rally the troops as the Mûmakil drew closer.

The Rohirrim spun around to hug the city walls as the Mûmakil came at them, urging them to reform the line, and throwing in a few swear words for good measure. She was impressed. She did not think some of them were physically possible.

Buffy ignored him, staring at the great bulk of the Mûmakil. Okay, now she knew this was going to be hard. One big foot could crush her nicely. Gritting her teeth, she forced the skittish horse onwards and under one of the great Southron beasts, her sword flashing out to hamstring its knee. It really did not like that and she barely made it away before sharp tusks gored her.

Another slash by a golden haired rider with a passenger brought the Mûmak down and Buffy grinned suddenly. "Éowyn!" she called out over the rabble as riders blasted by her, dodging and weaving, "Over here! Merry? Is that you!"

The Shieldmaiden fell into step beside her, recognising her easily this close, "Buffy!" Éowyn called out even as Merry's sword flashed again.

"Nice to see you're still alive," Buffy said as the two dodged another swing of tusks, "Let's hope it stays that way. Watch out! Elephant!"

The two women tag teamed another, by slicing it at the knees and felt no small satisfaction as another Mûmak went crashing to the ground. Knowing that Éowyn did not want to attract Éomer's attention, Buffy called out at the nearby Rohirrim, "Hey you! Stop trying to get yourselves crushed and slash their knees! Cut their hamstrings! Bring them down!"

Some heeded her but others followed Éomer's example of taking out the driver, after a most impressive shot from the young king that caught Éowyn and Buffy's attention. 'Twas the reason they did not notice the danger on the other side, until the Mûmak nearly fell on top of them and their horses reared.

Landing hard on the ground, the breath knocked out of her, and her injured shoulder screaming in pain, Buffy rolled over onto her back just in time to see one gigantic foot heading right for her. The Mûmak lifted its foot to crush her and she knew she could not roll out of the way fast enough. So she did the only thing she could; she used brute strength to grab the thick limb and halt its downward procession, pulling so hard that she snapped the bone. The Mûmak roared but it bought her time enough to roll to the side and stagger up before it fell under the weight of its broken limb. The resulting impact knocked her flat again and in the gloom, she could not even find her sword. Merry and Éowyn were nowhere to be seen either so she had to struggle on without them. Finding her sword a good twenty feet away, she punched an orc in the face; roundhouse kicked another and then managed to get a hold of the blade.

Only to feel something very hard and very painful slam into her back and drive her to her knees.

Spinning around, she barely got her sword up before a nasty blade tried to take her head off. Getting a good look at her attacker, she groaned. Well, at least she had found Mr Monster before anybody else did.

Throwing a kick his way, she found it blocked and then she was the one sent flying as monster punched her in the chest with enough force to nearly dent the Mithril shirt she wore underneath her tunic. It brought down its sword towards her neck but she swept its feet out from under it even as she leapt painfully to hers. She thought she would have bruises for a month.

The fight escalated to an all out brawl between the two of them as Buffy fought to stay alive. The monster was faster than her, stronger than she was and seemed more intent on killing her than banter. It was all she could do to keep its blade away from anything important and her arms already suffered several slashes as well as a deep cut on her thigh.

Her breath was coming hard, her reaction time was slowing down, her arm felt leaden and she could honestly say that she was terrified. She had never thought that dying was peaceful, but this was horrible. She felt like she was a rag doll being tossed around.

Kicking it back five paces, she held up a bloodstained hand and Narya glowed on her finger. "Sorry, but I don't feel like dying just yet." A ball of fire flashed towards it and enveloped it. Buffy breathed a ragged sigh of relief, even as her knees threatened to crumple under her. Okay Aragorn, this would be a really good time to bring reinforcements, she thought woefully but then a sudden sound made her swing her gaze back to the monster.

Which besides looking a little charred, seemed to be very much alive.

Mouth dropping open in shock, she took a shaking step back as it took one step forward. But then its dark eyes swung over to the riverside even as a cry, almost a cheer, went up amongst the orcs. "The sea-rats are here!" she heard one shout.

And when she looked, she saw trouble. Ships with black sails were coming up the river, nearing the port. And the only ships that had black sails were the Corsairs - pirate ships. Things had just got a whole lot worse.

The monster seemed to weigh up his options, as Buffy tried to stop looking like her own legs would not support her. And then it laughed, "I will come back for you later," it growled, "And here I thought you were supposed to be a challenge."

Buffy could only look at it in dismay as it walked off.

What the hell was she going to do now?

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Fire lit up the forest from a mile away, the smoke seen as far away as Esgaroth.

The trees were burning, trees that had stood since before Oropher's, Thranduil's father's day, and he felt that it was a great evil that he should live to see all that he had loved burn to ash. His people fought valiantly, but they were outnumbered and the weapons of the enemy were poisoned.

Day and night, they had fought, but slowly and steadily, his people had been forced back to their domain and then the orcs had followed them in. It made his blood boil to have these creatures of the Shadow invade his lands, pillage what was theirs and destroy what they had worked so hard to protect. The Elves of what was the Greenwood had spilt their blood in defending their wood, as they did now, but still they were driven back.

For the first time in months, he was glad that Legolas had escaped his snares, even if his destination was Mordor. If his son had been here, nothing would have persuaded him to give way and he was all that Thranduil had left. As it was, each scar the wood bore burned in his heart but it would be small pain compared to losing his only child. Now if he could just guarantee that Legolas would have a father to return to because he was definitely going to teach that rascal of a son of his how to respect his elders.

Another half hour of fighting passed before the Elvenking spotted what he had been waiting for; a weakness in the enemies defences. Without pausing, he pushed on and led a charge and to his relief and delight, the orcs were pushed back. The royal guards closed around him then, trying to keep him away from the worst of the fighting as if he did not see what they were doing. He hated people coddling him just because he was a king.

Wiping black blood from his face in disgust, he hacked through another crowd of orcs, orcs that were turning and fleeing under the Elves' pursuit now and with a shout, he gave chase. He had Dol Guldur on the run. He was not going to let that orc infested hole get a chance to regroup.

As he caught and started to fight the orcs, he heard the panicked shouts of his guards and at their shout, his head jerked upwards even as the orcs scrambled away.

The burning branch above his head cracked ominously and with little more warning, it started to fall. It must have been thicker than his waist and that was his last thought as it slammed into him, crushing him to the ground….

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A/N: So? Opinions please? I'm still worried that the battle scenes aren't going to be up to scratch! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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P.S – I'm thinking of writing a few more snippets for my Drabbles Series. So I'm in the market for suggestions. Is there anything in particular you guys want to see? Just let me know and I'll see what I can do!

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Next chapter: More Arwen and Boromir…. Buffy's vision comes true… Aragorn's grand entrance… Dragon trouble… And Éowyn's moment in the spotlight…

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Elvish:

Edhil - Elves

Dagnir – slayer

Istar - wizard

Mithrandir – the Grey Pilgrim

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

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Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.

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Éoherë - term used by the Rohirrim for the full muster of their cavalry.

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Eregion - an Elven realm of the Second Age. Celebrimbor forged the Three Elven Rings here. Sauron laid waste to the city and its people, taking all the rings of power, and killing Celebrimbor and using his body as a banner.

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Imrahil - Prince of Dol Amroth at the time of the War of the Ring. The line of the Princes of Dol Amroth is said to be of Elvish descent, a foremother being a Silvan Elf and a handmaiden of the Elleth Nimrodel of Lórien. Father of Lothíriel. Denethor's brother-in-law. Uncle to Faramir and Boromir.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

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Morgoth - the Dark Lord of the First Age. A fallen Vala, he destroyed the Two Trees of Valinor, Laurelin and Telparion, and killed Fëanor's father, the King of the Noldor. He decimated the armies of the First Age until at last a host from Valinor came to Middle Earth, and waged war on him for forty years before he was thrown down. Is not dead but trapped in the Void.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age. Now held by Buffy.

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Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Pelennor fields - 'Fenced Land'. The 'town lands' of Minas Tirith. Guarded by the wall of Rammas Echor.

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Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

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Yávien - The name of Legolas's mother and Thranduil's queen. in this story. (fictional of course). Translates to 'Autumn'. She was slaughtered by orcs who recognised her as Thranduil's Queen, and her body was dumped back in the forest for the Elven patrols to find, as a message and a warning for Thranduil.

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	55. Desperate Courage Part 2

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FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

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Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

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Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically, she has to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Now, as the battle for an age is being waged across Middle Earth, will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Aragorn take up his long hidden heritage? Will the White City survive what is to come? And will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal?

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Author's notes: Well, here's the update and some good news! I got my place in college in the course I want so yay!

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P.S – If Buffy was to become a lady of the court, I am holding a provisional vote. Should Buffy take a second name like Aragorn will be Elessar? Let me know what you think!

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Review responses:

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A-dream-within-a-dream – Thank you! I kind of like Galadriel and Thranduil so I like to feature them in my fics. Glad you like it! Buffy and Aragorn are on the same battlefield now so they will see each other. More interaction after this chapter though! About Éowyn and Faramir, I'm keeping my mouth shut! You will all just have to wait and see! Good luck with your fic!

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Arcrose – thanks! Okay, Mr. Monster is a little gift from Sauron. Just to make Buffy's day super crappy. And yes, the wraith Buffy killed is really dead. One down, eight to go then!

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Allen Pitt – Maybe not years later… and she is definitely going to need a healer, more than she realises!

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Anna aka liit06 – thank you! And killing the monster would be a little too easy don't you think? I never make it that easy… and sorry, no news of Thranduil in this chapter!

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Anyanka of the Ocean – Well, there's no fun in being predictable!

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Athene Saile – Thanks! And why about the warning? I think if readers have reached chapter 54 then they definitely know to expect anything!

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Azraeos – thank you! I'm glad you like it! I was so unsure about the battle scenes because someone pointed out to me that by dramatising the Battle of Helms Deep, I might not be able to top it!

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Azzie – Sorry, I don't send separate e-mails out for each chapter. Quite frankly, I would never remember to do it. However, this site does send out alerts if a new chapter is posted to a story. You just have to sign up for 'story alerts'.

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Boo – Humans can have magic too. Buffy could perform spells. Whether it is the slayer or just Buffy herself, I don't know though!

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Broken Whispers – thanks! And don't worry, Aragorn is now here! And what kind of stories are you after? LotR/BtVS crossovers, Buffy/Aragorn pairings, any BtVS crossovers? But whatever you're after, Moutons and CinnamonGirl are good places to start.

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Catgirl Elf Princess – I might but I'm not telling!

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Emerald sorceress – thanks!

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Goldenshadows – thanks! And as for Boromir, you'll have to find out yourself! And evil cliffhangers are a speciality!

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Greg Doroza – Sorry for not replying to your e-mail but it got accidentally deleted when I was clearing some spam! Again, so sorry! So I'll reply to you here instead! Hope that's okay! First off, thank you! Glad you feel the battle scenes are up to scratch! And don't worry; Buffy will get a sort of reprieve soon!

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Lady Meridia – Well, Aragorn does anyway! And from a writer's standpoint, two cliffhangers are always better than one!

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Lali-chan – hi! Thanks! I suppose the battle in front of the Black Gates will be smaller, with some unforeseen consequences. And I think everyone is dying to see the grand reunion! And Faramir may have lost his father, but he will soon be regaining his brother! So it kind of balances out! The Frodo and Sam bit is staying mostly the same, yes. And actually, I don't think Mr Monster has a mother. And glad to see you've picked up on the dynamic that will soon play out between our intrepid slayer and her dashing ranger! Yes, this is the last chapter of the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. At last, it ends. But what will the damage be? And yes, I think Arwen would be much better at comforting Legolas than Gimli!

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Light Spinner – thanks! Well, Aragorn makes his grand entrance in this chapter! Enjoy!

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Maddie – thanks! And if you have caught up this far, I think you will realize that you got your wish with Denethor!

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Telemnar – thanks so much! And by the Valar no, I have none of the sequel written! I do have it mostly plotted out but none of it written. I don't even have more of FK written. Chapters are posted as I finish them.

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Reyavie – thank you! No, Faramir doesn't get a break but at least he was spared the indignity of being dragged home by his horse! Also, no attempts to burn him alive this time! A bit of a bonus that! And sarcasm duly noted! And Buffy's a slayer. When do slayers ever get breaks? Especially ones that have annoyed Dark Lords? And yes, Imrahil has no idea what he has gotten himself into!

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Starlight - My Chosen Destiny – thanks! Um, there are about eight or nine chapters left of FK. And yes, there is going to be a sequel, provisionally titled 'A Knight's Tale'.

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tenshikoneko03 – thank you! And I think you got the monster half right. But seriously, I did have to switch from Minas Tirith. We all have to see how Galadriel and Thranduil are faring don't we? And Buffy may have gotten rid of quite a lot of nuisances; things don't go so well in this chapter!

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The Lady Reaper of the _Shadows_ – Well, there's a lot to be said for irony!

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Tsuki no Yasha – thank you! Fluff? That's chapter 56 onwards I'm afraid! In this one, they are going to be a little too busy for fluff!

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XinnLajgin – thanks! Aragorn arrives in this chapter!

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And major thanks to:

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Cat, devine-desire, Ellie, HellsFyre, gems7529, General Mac, greeneyes, Jacqueline, Kamui Gaia 07, Maleficus Lupinus, Pawsonscroll, potlood, RedsLover03, Selene, spk, vkky,

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CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE: DESPERATE COURAGE PART TWO

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Glad comforter! Will I not brave,

Unawed, the darkness of the grave?

Nay, smile to hear Death's billows rave -

Sustained, my guide, by thee?

The more unjust seems present fate,

The more my spirit swells elate,

Strong, in thy strength, to anticipate

Rewarding destiny!

- Emily Bronte, the Complete Poems (24)

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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 17.

"Why do I get the feeing that we are in big trouble?" Pippin mused as he stood with Gandalf as the gate shook under heavy pressure from the enemies on the other side of it. "Because I really did not think that it would end this way."

Gandalf looked at him, "Who says it has to end here?" he said.

"The orcs outside?" Pippin replied, "I mean, look out there, Gandalf. Nothing but enemies and…." The Hobbit blinked and then squinted and then blinked again, "Uh, Gandalf?" he said nervously, "What in the name of the Green Dragon are they?" he said, pointing at the water.

Gandalf looked in the direction he was pointing and the breath he was holding came out in a loud whoosh as he spotted ships with black sails approaching the city, Corsair ships without doubt, but flying something that Pippin could not see….

The White Tree of Gondor.

Aragorn had done it! The wizard could not stop the smile that came over his face, "They," he said calmly, "Are our friends, Peregrin Took. Aragorn and the others are here."

"By boat?" Pippin asked in confusion, "Were they not in Rohan?"

"Aragorn took a different road, Master Hobbit," Gandalf said, "Now things go our way. But look yonder! It seems that Buffy and Faramir are in a spot of bother! Follow me, Pippin. You are going to help me give them a helping hand."

****

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"You know, a guy comes out here of his own free will… I'm thinking that he's slightly crazy," Buffy panted as she ducked under the fiery whip.

Beside her, Faramir snorted, slamming his shield into place, "When a wizard wants you to do something, it takes a smarter man than me to evade his plans." He ground out as he danced out of reach, Buffy's shining blade keeping him from severe burns.

"True," Buffy agreed, hurling a dagger that sank into the Balrog's shoulder, "However, no matter what Gandalf said, you're fighting a Balrog, which usually sends sane men screaming. What does that say about you?"

Faramir gave a hoarse shout as he was sent flying through the air, landing on a pile of abandoned crates, "I am not sure I want to know, but I should hope that it implies that I am dashing, charming and a brave captain."

"Or an extremely stupid one," Buffy said as she landed on top of him courtesy of a direct hit. Rolling off slower than she would have liked, she groaned as she stood up, "Okay, this Balrog is _so_ getting on my nerves!"

As Faramir watched Buffy go flying through the air again, he couldn't help but agree.

But then suddenly, as Buffy was getting to her feet once more, looking more than the worse for wear and Faramir could have sworn that she was swaying as she stood, a rather hefty boulder came flying from the city and crushed the Balrog where it stood.

Covered in dust, ranger and slayer stared at each other for a moment in shock, and then stared at the boulder and the crushed Balrog.

"Didn't see that coming…" Buffy muttered, squinting up at the city walls and waving thanks anyway.

Faramir just kept staring from the flattened Balrog to the boulder that had missed him by about six inches, "Indeed…" he said faintly.

Why on Arda did these things have to keep happening around him?

****

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Standing on the prow of the first boat, Aragorn strained for the first sight of shining white walls in the distance. They were fast approaching Minas Tirith now, and he could only pray that they were not too late.

Huge grey plumes of smoke could be seen rising from the city as they approached and as they came closer, Aragorn could see the legions of the Dark Lord storming the city, see the gaping holes in the white walls, the caved in great gates, the fires ravaging the city he had sworn to keep standing. He had promised Boromir that he would save his home, save Gondor. And his friends were somewhere within those walls now too, hopefully still alive, he did not want to think otherwise. He could not think otherwise.

Elladan placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "It will be well, Estel," his foster brother said quietly, "This is your moment. Do not let fear hold sway now. 'Tis time to reclaim Gondor, muindor, and with your army at your back, I would wager that even the Witch-king would waver before them. I hear it is rather hard to kill those who are already dead after all. And the Mountain-king seems to be in the temper for it," he added, shooting the glowering, scowling ghost king a glance.

Aragorn sighed, "Look at that Elladan. Just look at it." he said sadly, "The city is nigh overwhelmed. What if we have come too late? What if we cannot stop them? What if sh---" He cut off abruptly, staring down at the water in consternation.

Elladan just looked at him, "Do not fret so Estel," he said soothingly, "You will see her soon enough. It would take more than you know to take down that lady of yours, especially when she has an Istar with her. Between her and Gandalf, I would not be surprised to see the city turned upside down if it suited them. And they have strong walls to hide behind if need be. Concentrate on the battle at hand. Look, we come close now. We can be seen from this far off."

"Hey laddie!" Gimli called from nearby, as if reading Elladan's mind, "The Elf says we have company ahead!"

And indeed, as Aragorn looked at the shore where the Dwarf was pointing, Legolas beside him, clear sight seeing much more than he, he saw the resident welcoming committee on the docks. Also known as a horde of orcs. "Fantastic," he muttered and then looked at the Elven twins beside him, "Well, since they are going to try to kill us anyway, I think the time is ripe to unwrap the present you brought me, muindor."

Elladan smiled wolfishly, "Ada did say that it might incite a riot or two," he said thoughtfully, even as he signalled for Elrohir to come over, "Given the odds we face, I think any advantage is preferable. Are you ready for this Aragorn? Do you willingly take up your mantle, Heir of Isildur?" he asked more formally, eyes intent on his foster brother.

The ranger in question was silent for a moment, "For better or worse, this is my destiny," he said quietly but firmly, "And I must fulfil it. Raise the banner…"

Elrohir left quietly, under heavy stares from Halbarad and the others who had watched the interplay curiously, and soon returned clutching a black bundle, which he promptly handed to Aragorn. "Accept this gift Elessar, from one who loves you. Our sister has toiled long on this, in the hopes that the beauty of the past may now be known in the present and the future. May it win glory for the race of Men once again."

Deftly untying the cord that bound it, Aragorn unrolled it to see the White Tree and stars emblazoned with silver thread on a field of black. The banner of the line of Elendil, the banner of the Kings of Gondor, lay in his hands, carefully crafted by his foster sister just for this day, to be his standard once more.

Swift work by the twins soon had the standard flying from the ship, furling and unfurling in the breeze, and for the first time, Aragorn felt that maybe he just might live up to his illustrious heritage. The other Dunedáin of course, knew what that standard meant and Halbarad even went so far as to make a little bow, almost mockingly good natured after so many years of friendship. But though the banner brought home the weight of the mantle he was taking upon himself, and signified his family's hopes for the future, his attention soon drifted back to the quayside and the battle at hand.

At his signal, everyone crept out of sight as their ship ghosted up to the docks, making sure that no orc could see them too early and raise the alarm, and crouching down near the side, Aragorn could hear the jeers from the waiting orcs. Beside him, Legolas tried to contain Gimli, who had taken it upon himself to give the orcs a sound thrashing while the twins whispered mocking comments in all too plain amusement. It was the type of nonchalance that only Elves and Dwarves seemed to have in a midst of a battle. He had heard Gandalf talk of the sniping at the Battle of Five Armies and he well believed it. Because only two such diverse races could ever want to taunt each other so much that they nearly forgot who they were at war with. He was only thankful that Thranduil and Glóin were not here or else he would never be able to get their attention!

Lulled by the black sails and the pirate ships, the head orc was in a fury and he stomped over to the first ship. "Late as usual, pirate scum!" it growled, "Wait until this boss hears about this ya maggots! Get a move on! There's knife work here that needs doing and ye'll be doing it! Come on, ya sea rats! Get off your ships!"

Elladan just raised an eyebrow in pure Elrond-esque fashion, imitating his formidable sire with eerie precision, "Well, since he asked so nicely, what do you say to us killing him now?" he said dryly, idly playing with his unsheathed sword, bare steel glinting in the light.

"Oh yes, let's." Elrohir said, backing his brother up, "I am growing rather tired to being stuck on this ship. Corsair design has nothing on Círdan. And since everyone else and their mother seems to be already on the battle field, can we please get there before the Dwarf is old and grey?"

"Hey!" Gimli groused, "You Mahal cursed tree squirrels leave me out of this!"

Elrohir looked at him blandly, "Actually, Legolas is the tree squirrel around here," he said sardonically, "Since he is a barbaric Wood Elf after all. But do let me pass on the compliment to my daeradar, Lord Celeborn. I am sure he would be delighted to hear the opinion of a Dwarf on the matter of his heritage. If you are lucky, between him and Thranduil, you might get away with just being thrown into the Forest River. I hear your kin had a pleasant visit there some years back."

It was not Legolas's turn to stop smirking and glare at the younger twin, "Leave my adar out of this, gwenyn," the prince said warningly, "Or I shall tell my adar exactly who pilfered his stock of Dorwinion during the solstice!"

Elladan glared right back, "You had better not, Greenleaf," he threatened, "Or I shall tell Arwen of some rather amusing exploits of yours…"

"Try it and I shall tell Arwen who dumped her bed into the Bruinen because she told Glorfindel what you two did." Legolas said, smiling devilishly, "Let us see if you can wangle your way out that one."

"_You_ are the one courting _our_ sister, Greenleaf!" Elrohir said, "We get to decide what to do with you. We can hang you upside down from the roof if we wish!"

"Ah," Legolas said, his smirk widening, "You do that and I will not have to send Arwen after you. She will want to kill you herself. As will Erestor for spilling blood somewhere and destroying something or the other. And your adar will not kill _me_ for trying to start a civil war! He _likes_ me. So he will cheerfully let Arwen teach you a lesson."

"Civil war?" Elladan repeated, "Why you sneaky, underhanded Moriquendi brat!"

"Is this how you behave to one who is nobly sacrificing himself for Middle Earth?" Legolas said tauntingly as the twins spluttered in indignation. "After all, who is Lord Elrond going to believe? Me, on this noble quest, or you two, who tried to start a war with the Dwarves last I recall!"

Aragorn stared at the arguing Elves incredulously, along with all of the rangers and no few of the ghosts. Really! What in the name of Elbereth did they think they were doing and why did they have to do this now of all times! "Are you all gone insane!" he hissed, trying to get their attention, but they just ignored him and continued on arguing over who dyed who's hair purple three hundred years ago.

Gimli looked at the sniping in wonder and then shook his head in disgust, sharing a commiserating glance with a seething Aragorn, "Ah! Enough of this!" the Dwarf exclaimed, grabbing his axe and leaping to his feet, "Leave them to their bellyaching lad! We have orcs to kill!" He shot one last look at the blonde Elf, as he hopped down off the ship, followed by Aragorn and no few of the rangers, "There is plenty for the both of us, if you can stop squabbling you bloody squirrels! May the best Dwarf win!"

Simultaneously, three heads swivelled to stare at the departing Dwarf, "Dwarf?" they repeated in unison, and Legolas grabbed his bow.

The Elven trio leaped gracefully onto the docks, faces dark enough to commit murder, "May the best _Dwarf_ win?" Elladan repeated incredulously, glowering at Gimli, "I think not. Prepare to be shown how it is done, you fool! Nobody bests us!"

"Unless it is Glorfindel, or Elrond, or Buffy, or me," Legolas said, cheerfully shooting at the confused orcs, even as the ghosts took their cue to leap from the ships in a flooding wave of eerie green that cut a swath through the orcs into the battlefield proper. The twins glared balefully at him and Elladan seemed to be considering 'accidentally' shooting the prince in the posterior.

Aragorn just shook his head as he ran through a leftover orc.

It was going to be a _very _long day.

****

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Dol Amroth, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 17.

Nodding his head mechanically, Boromir manfully endured the lecture he was receiving from his younger cousin, especially since Lothíriel would not take kindly to interruptions. Ever since Arwen had arrived and started to teach the Princess of Dol Amroth how to 'handle men', he had felt like he was – nay, he actually was, an unwilling participant in the two ladies teachings. He felt sorry for his uncle Imrahil. He was not sure whether the prince would be still able to handle his daughter after Arwen was finished with her. He just wished that they did not have to practice on him! Was it not bad enough that trying to survive in Lord Elrond's house in the time surrounding the council, thanks to Lady Arwen's brothers he might add, what with all the pranks that had nearly started another war had been nigh impossible but now he had to survive Lord Elrond's daughter, who in his opinion seemed to be worse than Elladan and Elrohir combined. Demure lady? Only in his dreams! And here he had thought that Aragorn had dropped peace and quiet to take up with a vixen like Buffy. Now, he thought Aragorn had only escaped the frying pan and dropped him into the fire!

When Lothíriel was finally finished with him, he was allowed to slink over to the head of the column of men that he had gathered from Rohan and the fiefdoms of Gondor. And of course, the Lady Arwen.

Apparently, she wanted to come along and so he not only had to deal with her bossing him about in his own homeland but try to protect her too! It was a thankless task and Boromir felt drastically more respect for Elrond for having such… unique… children. After some words with Lothíriel, the Lady of Imladris mounted and positioned her mare right beside his mount. He silently asked for mercy. What had he done to deserve this?

He could feel the weight of her stare boring into the back of his head as he gave the order to move out. He tried to ignore it but it was always there, like an annoying itch and sighing, he turned to look at her, "Yes, Lady Arwen?" he said wearily.

She arched an eyebrow at his tone, "Well, I thought that you would like to know what I have found out about the situation in Minas Tirith, but if you do not want to know. By all means, just ride on…"

He was sure that he was going to grind his teeth into powder trying to be gallant to a woman who was deliberately tormenting him! "Yes, Lady Arwen, I am listening. Please tell me what you know."

Those stunning, annoying, eyes abruptly turned deadly serious, all thoughts of teasing gone from them. "Their need is dire and will be dire again," she said calmly, "The city burns, from without and from within and the siege is breaking the defenders. Very soon now, the city may be lost."

Boromir was aghast, "And what of Aragorn? Where is he? And Gandalf? And Legolas and Gimli? And Buffy? Where are they! They were supposed to help!"

"They do," Arwen said sharply, "They do what they can! Do you even know the size of the army they face!"

Boromir nodded dully, "We are going to be too late, are we not?" he said sadly.

Arwen shook her head, "Not necessarily," she replied softly, "We have a purpose, whether you know it or not. I have not my father's control of foresight, or his experience, but I am nearly certain that the fate of the city rests on the help we bring. We have a role to play, Boromir. This is your chance to fight for your homeland. I know it is not the way of Men, but you must trust me. I do not see often, but with a warning of such clarity… I do not believe that I see wrong on this. And I have had other confirmation of what I fear. My daernaneth has sent me a message. Her mirror has warned her. She says that if we do not hold to this course, disaster will follow. She says that we may be the city's only chance in the end."

"Is Aragorn going to fail?" Boromir demanded, "Is that why you speak such dire warnings? Will my home fail?" His voice was choked at the thought of abandoning his home to such a fate.

Arwen moved her horse closer, despite the stares of the Men following behind, "Do not feel that way, Boromir." she said quietly, "I know my brother and he would walk through fire to save Gondor if that was what it took. The mirror sees things that will come to pass, but it also sees things that can be prevented. The battle is not yet done. The outcome cannot be known until it is ended. Trust that your home, however battered, will stand strong. You are not the only one who knows that something you treasure is in danger. My brothers, my lover, and a girl I have come to think of as a sister, are all out there somewhere, fighting in this war, fighting to save Gondor, and I am not going to have you start doubting. You are not the only one who is scared. But I am trying to get past that. Now, you know what we face. Are you still ready to do this? Because, I will go on without you if I have to!" she finished fiercely.

Boromir spoke after a thoughtful moment, "I am with you. I cannot abandon my home now. And my brother too guards those walls. I will not see him hurt if I could have prevented it. I have no doubt that my father will place him in the utmost danger. He ever undervalued Faramir; never saw what a good man he is. And since I was born, I have taken oaths to defend Gondor to the best of my ability. I admit that I may not like change, but I am no coward, Lady Undómiel, I will go to Gondor's aid and no trick of Sauron's is going to stop me."

She smiled, "That is what I wanted to hear," she said, and after an awkward moment in which both contemplated might be happening at Minas Tirith unknown to them, they settled into a companionable silence as Boromir occupied himself with seeing to both the plan and the men.

As Boromir moved the columns into a swift trot, quick but slow enough to allow the men walking to keep up, Arwen absentmindedly fingered the rolled slip of parchment in the pocket of her cloak.

Staring at the sky, she wished that the stars shone now instead of waiting for the veil of darkness to reveal their light. She could use the warmth that seeing her grandfather, Eärendil, always inspired in her as he sailed the skies with a Silmaril on the prow of his vessel, the brightest star there. She needed strength right now. Because she hoped with all her heart, that for once, her grandmother was wrong. She was not ready… Not yet…

She could not lose him now…

****

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Éowyn quickly lost sight of both Buffy and Merry after their horses fell. She thought that Merry might have been thrown clear, but she had not the faintest clue as to where Buffy had disappeared to and no time at all to ponder the matter.

Her sword met orcish steel with a sharp clang as she parried, ducked and then decapitated the foul creature. Even as she sliced into an Easterling, another man wrapped an arm around her neck. Kicking the man in front of her in the stomach, sending him staggering back, she slammed her head back into the man behind, hearing him cry out in pain and curse her in his own tongue. As she spun and sliced his innards open with one deft slice, she mentally thanked Buffy for showing her that move. She might have a headache, but it was better than being dead.

Running through the winded man, she took a deep breath as she realised that they were the first humans she had killed face to face. She felt a strange twisting in her stomach, bile rose at the back of her throat. So this was the price Éomer had talked about and Buffy had warned her of. It was not as she thought it would be. She felt oddly detached from the horror of it, her will to survive pushing to the back of her mind as she fought for her life on a field of carnage. This was the place where she could earn the renown she craved, forge a life away from merely minding house and lechery filled stares from the shadows, and yet now that she was here, she could only think of how much more death would it take before the day was won?

Slicing and slashing, she frantically tried to find Merry in the rampant chaos. She did not doubt the hobbit's valour but what if he had been hurt in the fall? She did not think that he had a Rohirrim's experience of getting thrown from horses. She wove her way through the field, fighting who and what she could, and avoiding the huge stomping Mûmakil like the plague. She was not stupid enough to think she could survive an encounter with one of those southron beasts unhorsed.

She froze with a sudden fear as she saw a figure clad entirely in black land on the Pelennor on some monstrous beast. She did not need to be told what it was, even if she had never before had the misfortune to see one of its kind. This was the stuff of tales, a source of nightmares… one of the Black Riders, the Nazgûl… wraiths that were neither dead nor alive but brought death with them. The Dark Lord's most loyal servants… and from the crown on his head, she guessed that this was the Lord of the Nine, the infamous Witch-king himself…

She felt like all her blood had turned to ice at his proximity. He seemed to radiate an air of spine-chilling fear and the black taint of murder. This was not something she could fight…. Not fight and win… Watching him warily, she started to creep back and away before he noticed her but then she spotted something out of the corner of her eye and she froze, heart clenching in fear and terror.

Éomer was there, nearby, still on proud Firefoot, trying to defend the city walls, calling for the Rohirrim to rally to him. He had not yet noticed the danger he was in. Gamling was no more than six feet from him and as he spun his horse around to survey the field, he spotted the Ringwraith bearing down on his king. Eyes round with fear as his horse reared at the sight of the wraith, he frantically yelled at the young king, "Éomer!" he roared, as he turned his horse round into a sharp canter, trying to regain control over his terrified horse, "Behind you! Beware! Flee! Éomer!"

Even as her feet took an instinctive step forward, her brother wheeled about to see what Gamling was on about and the Riders near him danced back in wariness and fear. Firefoot snorted and reared, but Éomer managed to settle the stallion down too late. The Witch-king's heavy metal mace swung out and though Éomer tried to block it with his shield, Firefoot reared in surprise and terror and off balance, fell clumsily. Éomer cried out in pain as he landed hard on the ground, his armour taking the brunt of it, and then his eyes widened as Firefoot fell on top of him, something wrong with one of his legs.

The weight of the horse kept her brother pinned down and his sword had fallen out of his reach…. He was trapped and the Witch-king on his beast bore down on him, intent on death for the young King of Rohan. Éowyn saw in shock that there was no way her brother could defend himself. Firefoot was trying to get off his master, but was failing miserably. He was helpless… Éomer was going to die.

A fierce anger blazed in her heart as her grip tightened on her sword. She was _not_ going to lose the only family she had left! The Witch-king would have her brother over her dead body! Feet taking wing, she raced towards him as the beast slobbered over her downed brother, ready to rip him to shreds.

"So this is what passes for a king nowadays," the Morgul Lord was sneering, "Pathetic. Feast on his flesh, my pet…"

Shoving her way through a crowd of orcs, Southrons and Easterlings who were in her path, she ran in front of Éomer, placing herself between him and the Witch-king, eyes blazing blue fire, "Stand back!" she cried, some hidden well of courage flaring to life inside of her. This foul creature was not going to have him! "I will kill you if you touch him!" she said fiercely.

Her anger boiled as the Witch-king seemed to laugh at her, dismissing her as one would a fly, "Only a fool comes between a Nazgûl and his prey…" he said threateningly, hand on his mace. He seemed to contemplate striking her himself but then dismissed the idea as beneath him. "Kill him." He ordered the fell beast he was seated upon.

"Get out of here!" Éomer gasped from underneath Firefoot, not knowing who came to his defence but unwilling to allow two die instead of one. "That is an order!"

Sharp teeth and gaping jaws descended on her, and in a move remembered from distant childhood and an old friend, she kicked it before ducking, leaving it to gnash on air and as it swung around to assault her once more, her sword flew and sliced a clean strike into his neck, half severing it. The beast screeched an awful shriek that echoed across the Pelennor and tried to crush her with its feet. Darting back, she lashed out again and took its head cleanly off. She jumped back out of range as it flailed in its death throws and then crashed heavily onto the ground.

As it fell, the Witch-king toppled off in an undignified pile and Éowyn took the time to hope for a miracle and to look at Éomer's situation. It was useless. She could not get Firefoot off him on her own. A clink of steel turned her attention back to the fallen beast and to where she saw the Witch-king rising lividly, mace in one hand and sword in the other. She could see no face behind that cowl but she knew that she had just marked herself out for death.

Breathing harshly, she wondered how in Eorl's name she was going to get herself out of this mess. The Witch-king advanced, and she held her sword and shield ready, holding steady even as Éomer urged his defender to flee. She had been afraid too long. Too afraid under threat of Gríma's treachery, under her uncle's decline into dotage under Saruman's hand, afraid as her country came under attack at Helm's Deep. And now, she was tired of being afraid.

Holding her head up defiantly, meeting emptiness with resolute eyes, she stood ready and practically dared the wraith to do his worst. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she demanded and saw Éomer start at her voice, eyes going wide in horror and recognition. The Nazgûl swung his mace – a huge thing of horror. A big ball of lethally spiked metal on a long chain that caught her eyes and made her gulp nervously.

"NO!" he cried as the wraith lunged. Éowyn ducked and parried, dancing to avoid the Nazgûl blade. With every successful dodge, the Witch-king grew more and more angry and finally, she was a second too slow to dart away and the mace crashed into her shield. Éowyn cried out in pain as every bone in her arm seemed to splinter, sending shards of red hot agony through her. Her shield slipped from deadened fingers, her arm hanging limply at her side and her knees buckling underneath her even as Éomer shouted at her to run, trying to draw the Nazgûl's attention away from her.

On her knees, gasping with the pain, she saw the triumphant Witch-king moving in for the final blow, and somehow, she found the strength to push past the pain and grab her sword with her good hand, fingers closing around the hilt, ready to bring it up in defence of her life and that of her brother's, but then she spotted movement behind the Morgul Lord and her eyes widened, her head shaking subtly to try to warn the person off.

The Witch-king came up to her and grabbed her neck while she was distracted. His grip chilled her blood, some sort of freezing cold seemed to emanate from him, and the strength of the grip threatened to snap her neck like a twig. But glaring in defiance, she tried to drive her sword into his gut. His grip tightened and she choked as he sneered at her, "You fool!" he said, "Do you not know that no man can kill me! Die now and see what happens to those who oppose me…"

His grip cut off her air supply and after a few moments, she could see black spots swimming in front of her vision as she struggled in the relentless grasp, but then salvation came….

Behind the wraith, she could see Merry approached, a bit battered and bruised, his little sword in his hand and then he stabbed the Nazgûl Lord in the back of the leg, staggering back even as his blade crumbled to dust and pain shot up his arm, causing him to fall to the ground. Her heart bled for the valiant hobbit while the Witch-king shrieked in pain, his head twisting around as he fell to his knees, to see who had dared cross him.

Gasping in air and panting heavily, Éowyn staggered up, despising the weakness in her limbs. Her fingers locked into a death grip on her sword. She looked at the Witch-king for a moment as she wavered where she stood and then she reached for her helmet and pulled it off. A cascade of long golden hair flooded down her back, and her face was revealed, causing a wretched cry of confirmed horror from her brother. The Witch-king stared at her in shock.

She smiled grimly, "No man can kill you, you say? Then what about a woman?" she said, "Because I assure you that I am no man!"

With a cry of vengeance and triumph, she shoved her sword through the Witch-king's face… And nearly died from the pain of it. She fell to the ground, agony coursing through her, but even though it felt like acid was in her veins, some darkness closing its grip on her, but she at least got the satisfaction of being able to see the Witch-king die. It seemed like he just crumpled in on himself, leaving nothing behind but a pile of rags and a shrill cry on the wind.

Merry looked at her in shock before seeming to faint. And after a moment, she turned to look at it Éomer, who was calling for her frantically. She managed a small smile for him before the darkness overtook her too, leaving him to desperately try to reach her.

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Lothlórien, 2969 TA, Narvinyë (January)

Galadriel arched an eye at Glorfindel, blue eyes pinning him in place, "After all these years, why do you ask me of a prophecy _you_ foretold would come to pass?"

Glorfindel shrugged, "Mayhap because I am curious, or it may be because the twins have been wondering whether they count as a man. I would not want the Witch-king as the target of their hunt. You know very well that Elrond would skin me alive for giving them the idea!"

She gave a long suffering sigh, "Come, let me look into the mirror. I will try to see what I can and if that does not work, send the twins here. They are overdue a visit anyway. But why the interest in the Witch-king now?"

Glorfindel met that stare unflinchingly, "They have reason to believe that it was the Witch-king who ordered the attack on their mother."

Instantly, Galadriel's eyes narrowed, nearly becoming brighter and more intent than he could bear. He really wished that he had not been the one to have to tell her that. Sometimes, he thought she was scarier than the Balrog that killed him.

Galadriel drifted over to the mirror, and almost instantly images flared to life, and a small glow surrounded one of her hands. He knew what it meant. After many minutes of patient viewing, she looked at him. "He will not die by the hand of Elf or man," she said, "But something that he disregards. Someone he thinks insignificant. And in doing so, he will lose something he stole long ago."

Glorfindel blinked, "I do not suppose you have a translation please?"

She smiled enigmatically, "Think Buffy. Think two of such mettle," she said cryptically, "Do not fret. I think the Witch-king will get what he deserves…"

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Pelennor Fields, Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 17.

Her breath came in harsh pants as she staggered on, it hurt even to breathe. Her arm pulsed with pain from the bow-work used to take care of the dragon. And she was sure that her bruises had bruises. It was only will that was keeping her on her feet but even she had had to admit that she could not take any more. The Balrog was dead, and the Dragon would not be bothering anyone now that its own side had killed it. She had done what she had set out to do. The real nasty slayerly threats were taken care of, she could now hopefully go back to just bossing people about. All she had to do was make it into the city on her own. Easier said than done.

Faramir and quite a few of the Gondorian cavalry were in front of the gates now, trying to keep anymore enemies coming in and overwhelming the upper levels. If she could just reach them, she would be safe enough. It might be humiliating if she tripped or fainted in front of them, but hey, better in front of them than in front of a pile of orcs. She had a feeling the Witch-king would be all too happy with her head on a pike anyway. Besides, reinforcements were here, she could safely go back to the city and not feel guilty about abandoning anyone. Aragorn was here with his all invincibly scary ghost army led by some pretty cross looking transparent people. And she had seen Aragorn on the battlefield, beside the twins of all people (Where in Arda had they come from anyway? And if they were here, why wasn't Glorfindel, who they could have really used to deal with the ever so friendly Balrog buddies!), hacking their way through some of the stupider foes. She thought it was okay to think that things were in capable hands.

And so she staggered onwards, feet dragging, hugging her injured arm close to her chest and tried to avoid most of the fighting. She really could not afford to die right now. She had a feeling Gandalf would only resurrect her just to kill her again if she handed Narya to Sauron. Going round a downed Mûmak, she stopped as a fell shriek echoed across the field, accompanied by a flash of light and Buffy turned to look in shock, "What the hell was that?" she wondered aloud.

Taking a step forward, she froze as she saw someone round the other side of the Mûmak – more precisely, the one who had whooped her ass.

"Apparently, I have no luck!" she muttered and tried to backtrack in the hope that it had not spotted her but typically, that was not to be. That would have been too easy.

"I think it is time for you to die," he said, brandishing a wicked looking blade.

"If it's all the same to you, why can't you be the one to die?" Buffy said, "That might make the line more original."

"No more talk," he snarled, lunging at her, Buffy jumped out of the way and took off at a dead run with all the slayer speed she could muster. Oh where were those non-killable ghosties when you needed them!

A heavy weight barrelled into her, knocking her to the ground and damn near crushing her with its weight. Giving a feeble – for her anyway – shove, she managed to dislodge the weight and just about managed to roll to the side quick enough to avoid a little decapitation. With muscles like water and protesting their abuse heavily, she staggered to her feet, wobbling more than a bit, to face her foe.

Her head came up in characteristic defiance, even if her stance screamed 'I am going to fall down' more than its usual 'I have the power to kill you and I am so going to do it'. "Okay, since you seem determined to be rude, how about we just get this over with buddy?" she drawled, "If you're going to try and kill me, just spare me the dramatics. I have seen so much better."

He bared his extremely sharp teeth in a snarl, and she found herself once more falling back to avoid a flurry of deadly blows. She kicked him in the groin, and it did not even faze him, she slammed the blunt of her sword into his side and it did not even faze him. He punched her in the face, causing her to stagger back a few steps and nearly fall. Then he followed it up with a blow to her gut that had her doubled up wheezing for breath.

Hearing the tell tale whistle of steel through the air, she threw herself to the ground to avoid being hacked into and grabbing a fallen orc's scimitar; she threw it at him and watched him nimbly avoid it. What the hell was this guy! This was just as bad as being thrown about by Glory! Spinning into a roundhouse kick, she landed a direct hit to the head before she was sent flying over his head, to roll in a painful ball to the ground. "Didn't anyone teach you that it is not nice to throw people about like that?" she said, lunging and letting fly with a confiscated shield, which smacked him in the side. This time he staggered. Well, at least it was some reaction. That had to mean he wasn't going to make mince meat out of her like Glory. Because she so did not have that hammer with her at the moment.

She brought up her sword to block a blow to her injured arm and at an unexpected opening; she spun around to stab her sword into his side. Unfortunately he beat her too it.

Feeling a wave agony flooding her, she looked down in disbelief to see cold steel sticking out of her middle, blood dripping down to stain her clothes and form a puddle of crimson on the ground. _No one_ had ever done that before. No one had ever succeeded anyway.

Grinning maliciously, he twisted the blade in her before pulling it out, allowing her to crumple to the ground, exhausted beyond measure and too wounded to even try to get up and make a break for it.

He loomed over, ready to finish her up when suddenly, two luminous green shapes took him on. She saw blood being spilt before he learned that he could not kill that which was already dead and with one last glance at her lying there, fled the field, with the two ghosts chasing after him.

Lying on the ground, in a steadily growing pool of her own blood, Buffy stared up at the sky. It seemed too bright, too blue, for such a dark day. She tried to get up, but could not even find the strength to sit before collapsing back on the ground, panting harshly.

Her hand clutched at the Ring of Barahir under her tunic, "I guess I'm going to break my promise after all," she said, choking on the words.

It seemed her end had come at last.

Alone.

The way all slayers died.

She decided she hated that most of all.

****

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Breathing heavily and covered in blood thankfully not his own, Aragorn killed the orc in front of him and then looked around perplexed at the quiet. There seemed to be hardly anyone left to fight. Nearby, Elladan wiped at a streak of blood on his cheek, "You know," he said conversationally, "I think we won."

Surveying the field, Aragorn had to agree. Most of Sauron's remaining forces were fleeing as fast as their feet could carry them. It was over. The Battle of the Pelennor Fields was finally at an end.

He looked at the White City, battered and smoking, but still standing. One goal accomplished at least, but he could not be entirely happy about it. Halbarad, who had been his friend since he joined with the Dunedáin, had died today. It was a hard price to pay, even if he knew that it had been a very real possibility when he had led them here.

The Dead had finished off inside the city, swarming through the seven levels. They had been the reason that the day was won, he could not deny it. He knew he should be happy or at least relieved, but something nagged at the back of his mind. He did not know what but it would not leave him be. It left him in a state of disquiet; one that his friends did not fail to notice.

"Are you alright, laddie?" Gimli asked as he inspected his axe for nocks, "We won, Aragorn. You should stop brooding like an Elf."

Three sets of Elven eyes bored balefully into the Dwarf, about to rip into him, but Aragorn only sighed. "We won the Pelennor, Gimli. For now. We did not win the war. Not yet."

"Cheerful speech, Aragorn," Legolas said, arching an eyebrow, "How about you try not to scare your men?"

"Quiet Greenleaf," Elladan said, "Look, Aragorn, I think they want to talk to you." He said, pointing at the approaching ghost army.

The ghosts formed a thick ring around them as the King of the Mountain approached Aragorn until they stood face to face. Their gazes met levelly. "Release us." The ghost said simply.

Behind the ranger, Gimli harrumphed, his hands tightening on his axe, "Bad idea, laddie," he said, "Very handy in a tight spot, these lads, despite the fact they are dead."

Elrohir whacked him across the head, "Ever hear of honour, Master Dwarf?" he said.

Elladan gave him an additional thwack for good measure, "Aye," he agreed, "It seems that only Dwarves want a bunch of vengeful ghosts following them about? Does that mean the rumours are true about what goes on in those caves of yours? Quite scandalous, Master Gimli."

The Dwarf spluttered in indignation, his face turning an unattractive shade of red, "Now you listen here Elf!" he started.

The King of the Dead merely looked at Aragorn, eyes narrowed, "You gave us your word…" he reminded him sternly, grip tightening on his weapon.

Aragorn nodded in reply. He would not bind them to Middle Earth in unending torment. He would not fall to Isildur's greed. "I hold your oath fulfilled." He said, "Go, be at peace. I release you."

The ghost spared closed his eyes in relief and spared Aragorn a thankful look that assure the man that he was doing the right thing. After all, some things could not be caged. He knew that well.

Aragorn watched the dead shimmer and then vanish, as if blown away by the wind, leaving nothing behind but a stir in the air. Looking at the friends surrounding him, he turned around to face the city, "Come," he said quietly, "The battle may be over, but there is still much to do."

As they walked towards the splintered gates, Aragorn found himself searching for a familiar glint of blonde hair.

Where was she?

****

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A/N: Well, that was the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. Finally at a close. And the King has officially Returned. Please let me know what you think! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!

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Next chapter: The consequences of victory… Aragorn finds a disaster awaiting him… Sauron's malice is felt all the way from Mordor… And the War is not over yet….

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Elvish:

Estel - Hope

Muindor – brother

Istar - wizard

Dunedáin – Men of the West

Daeradar – grandfather

Adar – father

Gwenyn – twins

Daernaneth - grandmother

Undómiel – Evenstar

Narvinyë - January

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Bruinen - translated: Loudwater. The river bordering the valley of Rivendell. It is under Elrond's sway and he can make it flood at need.

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Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

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Dol Amroth - the royalty of Dol Amroth are believed to have an Elven foremother in their line. Stronghold of Gondor on Belfalas, named after Amroth King of Lórien (deceased.).

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Dorwinion – Wine that King Thranduil is supposed to favour. Quite a delicacy.

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Eärendil - Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth.

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Éoherë - term used by the Rohirrim for the full muster of their cavalry.

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Gríma Wormtongue - Counsellor of King Théoden and agent of Saruman. Lusted after Éowyn of Rohan.

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House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

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Imrahil - Prince of Dol Amroth at the time of the War of the Ring. The line of the Princes of Dol Amroth is said to be of Elvish descent, a foremother being a Silvan Elf and a handmaiden of the Elleth Nimrodel of Lórien. Father of Lothíriel. Denethor's brother-in-law. Uncle to Faramir and Boromir.

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Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

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Lothíriel - daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, wife of King Éomer of Rohan and mother of Elfwine the Fair.

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Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.

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Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

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Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

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Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

Pelennor fields - 'Fenced Land'. The 'town lands' of Minas Tirith. Guarded by the wall of Rammas Echor.

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Ring of Barahir - Heirloom of the House of Isildur.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	56. Death Shall Have No Dominion

**FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER**

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but the plot.

**Summary**: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Now, it seems that the Pelennor has been won… But at a cost some might not have been willing to pay…. The Battle is won, but the War is not. Can the people of Middle Earth topple Sauron? And can Frodo and Sam now avoid the chase? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And in the aftermath of everything, can anything bloom?

**Author's notes:** Okay, quite a few of you are suspicious of me. And rightly so. Enjoy the chaos!

**P.S** – just to clear something up. No chapter of this fic has ever been written in advance. Sadly, I am not that organized. So the chapters are posted as I finish them. Hence, why there have been delays recently. Also, none of the sequel is written. Even the name is provisional! RL can really suck sometimes!

**P.S.2** – Check out the name vote at the end of the chapter please!

_Review responses:_

_Allen Pitt_ – loose change? Sadly, no. and you are the first person to catch on to something about Boromir. My congratulations. So yes, trouble still abounds.

_Arcrose_ – oh, you know me by now. Of course I had to leave it there! And you never know, the sequel could have featured Buffy the Ghost. The Black Gates… you're not on the right track there on one matter… just a little hint…

_Azraeos_ – reaction to Buffy's predicament? The city's destruction? Or the various unwelcome guests the city hosted?

_Boo_ – thanks! Vitamin c chewables? What happened to good ol' fashioned chocolately goodness?

_Broken Whispers_ – thank you! Okay, titbits… Yes, the bond has a role to play. And yes, the names I gave were two authors. Oh, and try Lisette too.

_ChibiChibi_ – thanks! Okay, Aragorn released the ghosts. They won't be coming back. And they definitely didn't know that they saved Buffy. Hence why they didn't tell Aragorn. And Balrogs can't all have dramatic ends. Besides, I thought getting crushed so easily was fitting. And yes, it was Gandalf and Pippin who launched the rock at it. Wasn't it nice of them to help out?

_Devine-desire_ - only fell out of the chair? I apologise and try to do better next time. And I love writing the twins! Mainly because it's free flowing banter and all out insults, with a few pranks and follies thrown in for good measure. They are always two characters that cheer a person up! Well, me at least.

_Dreamer Child_ – Forgiven. On parole of future good behaviour! And I could have meant the name posthumously!

_EoSpHoRuS_ – thanks! Nice to hear from you! Yes, you did make sense. But sadly, it's Éomer's predicament and Théoden can't get him out of it.

_Geweldigenoten_ – There will be a summary of the sequel in the last chapter of this story.

_Gregdoreza_ – thanks! Where did I learn it? Don't really know, I think my muse took some lessons from the Source of All Evil though… or was it the Grim Reaper? Glad you liked the chapter anyway! And yes, Buffy is definitely used to aliases by now. And I think it would have to be Elvish styled. All the really good ones are Elvish styled… And after wondering for a while, what do all the initials after your name mean? If you don't mind me asking…

_HeeroYuyZ_ – I did not choose the pairing because it was convenient or I could think of none better. I could have used Elladan, Elrohir, Éomer, Legolas, Faramir, Boromir, Glorfindel, Gandalf, Gamling, Théoden, Théodred etc. I picked the pairing because I wanted to do something original and because it intrigued me to see if it could be done and done well. I'm sorry if you don't like it but everyone is entitled to their opinion. I don't think it loses its charm. Because I think its charm always lay in that the world was so detailed that it seemed so realistic. I am committed to making things realistic and would never make things unrealistic by choosing the easy way out.

_James_ – I'll see what I can do!

_JuliansGIrl_ – well, I do try!

_Lady of the Wood_ – Long time no see! Welcome back! Hope you vote on a name!

_Lali-chan_ – thank you! Good comment on my evil tendencies though. I do think the readers must really pity (or else enjoy) Aragorn's luck in this story. Uh, Buffy can die. Remember the Master, the events in the gift, the little disaster in Moria… She can die. Don't make me prove it. Again. Still, this chapter should give you some hope. Kiss? Sorry, no big romantic smoochies until both are conscious at the very least! But I do have my reasons so trust me. Besides I have to keep everyone on their toes or maybe I'm just plain evil… not sure yet. As for unforeseen consequences, I do tend to like them. And you are probably right in your estimation. I'm cruel. I like to see them suffer. And definitely no Willow. Well, hope this chapter tides you over in lieu of the 'Kiss'…

_Light Spinner_ – no, they haven't. I haven't beaten up Imrahil at all… hmmm….

_liit06_ – thanks! And I make a habit of being sneaky. This is not a soap opera where you know what's going to happen next before the scriptwriters do. I make misdirection my business and enjoy the fact that I can be surprising. No, Éomer didn't get out from under the horse. You have to appreciate the irony. The Horse-Lord felled by his own mount… if it wasn't such a serious matter, imagine the humiliation… happy Labour Day? Sorry, live in Ireland. Am not even sure I even know what it is…. But thanks for the sentiment!

_Lizzie_ – Do I really like cliffhangers? I think that was blasphemy!

_Maleficus Lupinus_ – chocolates, are as usual, always appreciated…

_Mari_ – thank you! What Arwen gave her was a gesture from a long time. Both of them have changed a lot since then. Yes, you're right. Buffy's not dead. Yet. And I can't tell you about the Battle of the Black Gates yet. I don't want to give it away!

_Ophira_ – thank you! Action scenes are hard. I suppose I did do research into the LotR world once upon a time but I kinda know a lot of it now so it's not that hard. Glad you like my fic anyway!

_Pawsonscroll_ – thanks for all the reviews if you're up this far yet! And havoc is a bit of an understatement. By now, most of your questions have been answered in the course of the story so if you have reached this chapter I hope you have enjoyed 'FK' so far.

_Reyavie_ – thank you! Well, I thought the boulder was a rather non dramatic end to the Balrog and thus fitting in the absolute absurdity of its plainness. And yes, Dark Lord's don't tend to give their enemies a break. They probably have tormenting them worked into their schedule along with all the maiming and killing they do regularly. And I was going for the surreal feel to the twins and Legolas's conversation. I thought the whole ridiculousness factor of them arguing over such trivialities in the middle of the battle for Gondor was just too good an opportunity to pass up. And I'm only _gaining_ Sauron's traits?! I'm insulted. My muse is insulted. I surpassed his evilness a long time ago! Hey, for 56 chapters I've been the mastermind of his evilness!

_Santos Black_ – thanks! Glad you appreciate it! And to tell the honest truth, I'm looking forward to writing some fluff.

_Silence_ – let's hope that no one ever has to try to remember all of their names then!

_smileyblu7_ – hi! Thanks! Magnitude? Well, so far, the last chapter is clocking in at number 63… and I really didn't want Buffy to steal Éowyn's thunder. Éowyn earned her place in ME history and I wasn't going to take it off my spunky little Shieldmaiden. And at least one of your questions is answered in this chapter as Aragorn and Buffy finally come face to face….

_Spammer_ – what has powdered dragon tooth to do with healing?

_Spk_ – From experience, pins and needles can be uncomfortable! So here's the reprieve!

_Tombadgerlock_ – Thanks! Okay, in this fic, coming down hard on the Scoobies was necessary because Buffy would end up never seeing them again. It was pivotal for my plot that she accepted ME as her new home and she couldn't do that if she was carrying ghosts around with her. It's true, I don't like Dawn. I suppose that after five years of watching Buffy, I got annoyed with Dawn's character. And I am very fond of the Willow of the first five seasons, but in season 6 onwards, she kinda goes off the deep end and I want the sparkly Willow of before back.

_tenshikoneko03_ – Of course the twins and Legolas are crazy. I believe most of the Elven royals are certifiably insane. Pitch forks? Do you even own a pitch fork?

_Tsuki no Yasha_ – thank you! Let's hope the fluffiness lives up to expectations….

_And major thanks to:_

_Athene Saile, CMKM1648, d347hbyp45510n, General Mac, Goldenshadows, Lady Meridia, mad-catt, Nicole, peacockgal17, RedsLover03, Selene, The Great and Powerful Oz, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Wild320, XinnLajgin, _

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX: DEATH SHALL HAVE NO DOMINION**

"_For death begins with life's first breath,  
And life begins at touch of death."  
- John Oxenham _

_The Pelennor Fields, Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 17._

The battle may have been won, but the aftermath was far from pleasant.

Having passed his time fruitlessly shoving at Firefoot, with Éowyn – ghostly pale and too still – near him but out of reach, Éomer was left weeping bitter tears.

He had lost his uncle and King at Helms Deep and when he had ridden out to war once more, he had been comforted to know that his sister, the sole family he had left, the last of the House of Eorl, was safe in the shelter of Dunharrow; unable to jump recklessly into some suicidal scheme. He had known that if the worst had come to the worst, then Éowyn would lead their people and keep them safe against the coming storms.

He had never dreamed of this end…

He scarce paid any attention to the cries of shock from Gamling, who had been methodically searching for his king, only cognizant of the fact that suddenly he was being pulled out from under a trembling Firefoot. Not hearing the entreaties from his men who wanted to know whether he had taken any hurt, he near crawled over to the still form of his sister, his feet numb from lack of blood flow due to Firefoot's not inconsiderable weight.

"No, Éowyn," he pleaded, even as he gently turned her over, ignoring the gasps of shock and horror from the Rohirrim there gathered, who had not noticed his sister in their haste to help Éomer, "Why did you do it, you silly girl?" he choked out as he clutched her to him, fearing her dead, and he very nearly sagged with relief when he saw the slight rise and fall of her chest.

She yet lived….

Cradling her, he tried to stagger up on wooden legs and only Elfhelm and Gamling's steadying hands kept him from falling right down again. "My king," Elfhelm said, shaking him slightly, "Éomer, you will do no good if you drop her. Let me carry her."

Éomer glared at them defiantly and took one wobbling step, "I can do it!" he exclaimed, "I have to do it… She saved me…"

Elfhelm looked at the all too familiar helm and robes and the dead fell beast not far off, and though he could scarcely credence it, it seemed that some great evil had been defeated. When Gamling had said that he had been separated from the King, that the Witch-king had come for Éomer, he had not expected to find the man still alive. He had feared that the Rohirrim would be King-less once more, with only Éowyn left to rule, far away in Dunharrow. Too far away to change the course of battle.

But as he saw the young woman in her brother's arms, he still could not fathom how she had slipped out of the safety of the mountain refuge and come away to war with them. "She did this?" he said, gesturing towards what seemed to be the remnants of the Morgul Lord.

"Aye," Éomer ground out, "She killed him… She is dying because of me."

He seemed to be unaware that he was not uninjured himself and that he was swaying like a reed in the breeze, and Elfhelm would have betted that the only thing that was keeping him up was concern for his sister. He placed a hand on his arm soothingly, "I will take the Lady Éowyn," he said firmly, "You look ready to fall down and though you may be king, no one will follow your orders in this state. Sometimes young men do not know what is best for them."

Éomer looked indignant but as he wobbled again and his grip on Éowyn tightened as he regained his balance, he nodded and reluctantly surrendered his only living relative and the one dearest to him into the care of the Marshal. Elfhelm carefully grasped her, easily lifting her weight, and made to make haste to the Houses of Healing when Éomer said to Gamling, "Wait," he said, "Éowyn was not the only one who sneaked onto the battlefield. Merry came too. And he fought valiantly. He lies over there. I know not what happened but he stabbed the fell wraith and his sword broke and thus he fell. He is a Squire of Rohan. Help him."

And so with the last remaining members of the House of Eorl and one injured hobbit being led away by a clutch of Rohirrim, it was a sombre and strange procession that rushed into the Houses of Healing minutes later.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

While Elladan and Elrohir almost immediately offered their assistance as healers after the battle was done, Aragorn had to fend off curious overtures from the defenders of Gondor, who knew very well what the banner he had carried before him meant. Indeed, this confirmation of the multitude of rumours they had heard over the past few days led them to believe every rumour concerning Isildur's Heir. Curiosity burning, they watched him with measuring, considering eyes, and he felt all the weight of their stares.

He was inordinately pleased when a very much relieved Imrahil of Dol Amroth came forth with the White Wizard and Pippin close on his heels, for all intents and purposes unharmed, and thus gave him a chance to escape his watchers. Aragorn very nearly sagged in relief himself at the sight of his friends hale and whole, "Gandalf!" he called happily, embracing the wizard, "It heartens me to see you well, old friend. I had feared we might not get here in time."

"Indeed, your aid was impeccably timed," Gandalf said, "Things were getting quite strained at that point. The lower levels are already a mess and only your timely intervention saved the upper levels from the same fate. Alas for us, Sauron sent no few surprises to trouble the city and most of them were vanquished by our own Dagnir. Speaking of Buffy, where is she? Or is she avoiding you again?"

Aragorn felt his throat go inexplicably dry, "She was not with you?" he asked, his concern leaking through despite his efforts to contain it.

Gandalf's eyes softened in understanding of his anxiety, "The last time I saw her, she was on the Pelennor with Faramir, son of Denethor, distracting a Balrog which soon after died most unexpectedly. I have seen Faramir once since then, but not Buffy. I do not think she returned to the city during the battle."

Aragorn's heart skipped a beat and the nagging feeling in his mind came back with a vengeance. By Elbereth, no, he prayed silently, even as he started to feel the first stirrings of panic within him. He tried to reassure himself that she was probably fine and off chastising some poor soldiers for lacklustre effort.

He was so lost in thought that Gandalf had to nudge his arm to gain his attention; "Aragorn?" the wizard said softly, "What is it you plan to do now? You have conquered under the King of Gondor's banner. And rumours went ahead of you of your coming. The people that remain already talk of you as the Heir of Isildur, come to claim the throne, and as Minas Tirith's people come back from the country, they too will learn of you. What is your plan?"

Aragorn was silent for a long moment, and he looked at the city as if it held the answer to his questions, but when he spoke, his voice was firm, "This city has rested in the charge of the Stewards for long years," he said, "And I fear that if I enter it unbidden, then fear and doubt may arise which should not be while this war is not yet ended. I will not enter in, nor make any claim, until it shall be seen whether we shall prevail against the might of Mordor. Men shall pitch my tents upon the field and I shall await the welcome of the Lord of the City."

"Yes," Gandalf said thoughtfully, "About that. Denethor met with an unfortunate… accident. He is dead, Aragorn. I believe that leaves Faramir as the only steward left in the city."

"Dead?" Aragorn said in surprise, "How did that happen? I did not think Denethor would be so foolish as to leave the city."

Gandalf was going to reply but Pippin beat him to it, "Buffy accidentally killed him when he nearly told the Witch-king where Frodo and Sam were."

"What?!" Aragorn exclaimed, "_Buffy_ killed Denethor? Accidentally? How is that even possible? Is she unhurt?"

Gandalf glared at Pippin for his tactless telling of the tale, muttering insults under his breath, "Denethor attacked her and ran himself onto her own sword. His own folly killed him, one could say. He had all the sense of babe when it came to the management of the city."

Aragorn was quiet as he thought of the consequences of such an end, and their effect on the woman he loved, "Buffy would not have seen it so." He said at last, "Does she avoid Denethor's kin? Or is it only me she does not want to see?"

"I cannot say," Gandalf said, "For I do not know. She went to the lower levels early on to deal with no few threats. You may not have noticed, seeing as they were dead before you arrived, but Sauron sent dragons and Balrogs with his army. They did much damage before they were brought down and I understand that the Rammas Echor is little more than rubble now."

Aragorn cast his eye towards the mostly collapsed wall, "Aye," he agreed, "All of the Pelennor's defences are mightily breached."

"Prince Imrahil!" a voice cried out, as a young woman ran up to them, panting heavily. Her garb identified her as an apprentice of the Houses of Healing, "Prince Imrahil! Lord Mithrandir! Urgent news!" As she staggered to a stop beside them, she spotted Aragorn and gave a rather undignified squeak before sweeping a deep curtsy, "My lords, Lord Faramir has been found badly injured inside the city!" she exclaimed breathlessly, "The healers say they that some darkness weighs him down. And two more with the same affliction have been brought in, my lords! The Lady Éowyn was borne in by her brother the King, and a Halfling was brought in soon after. Please, Lord Mithrandir, they want you most urgently."

Imrahil was aghast, "Faramir?" he repeated, "And the Lady Éowyn? Of Rohan? What in the name of the White Tree was she doing here? Did even the women of Rohan come to fight for Gondor?"

Aragorn was even more dismayed, for he recognised the condition, the darkness, that held them – the deadly Black Wraith that was the curse of all those who came into too close a contact with one of the Nine. But what drove him to despair was the mention of Faramir's name – Faramir, who had last seen Buffy. Turning to the girl, he asked urgently, "And a lady called Buffy?" he demanded, "Was she brought in as well?"

"The Lady Buffy, my lord?" the girl said faintly, "No, not that I know, my lord. Are you really Isi---"

She was caught off by Aragorn abruptly turning and stalking away. Gandalf sighed at his going and turned to the girl, "Well, lead on!" he said, "I shall see what I can do."

"But my lord!" she cried, "What about the king?! That was the King, yes?"

"He has his own errand to accomplish ere he shall be any good to anybody else," Gandalf said knowingly, "He shall not come near the city until he finds what he seeks…"

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Aragorn could scarcely remember when he had felt such panic before.

He would have been calmer if he was told he had to storm Barad-dûr by himself. He _knew_ Buffy. And she never disappeared after the battle was done. Whatever the circumstances, she seemed to always end up in the thick of things. Buffy did not give up, and nor did she value her own life highly. The latter was a flaw that he despised. How could she not see what she meant to him and to those who cared for her?

No, he could feel that nagging feeling in his mind and something told him that it had to do with Buffy, that something was dreadfully wrong. He had no option but to trust it. He could not stave off the image of Buffy lying hurt and bleeding somewhere. And so he stalked the battlefield, desperately searching for any sign of the slight blonde figure and following a vague pull that seemed to be steering his path. He had never felt it so clearly before, and trying to reason out why he should feel it now brought a new kind of terror.

He could not lose Buffy. Not now. Not when victory, their victory, was in sight and a bright future seemed finally to be within their grasp. The impish, aggravating slayer had stolen his heart long before he knew of it. Losing Arwen had been painful but time had let him see that his foster sister had happily avoided what would have been a dreadful mistake. With Arwen, he would have condemned her to a mortal life, and in the blink of an Elven eye, to the grave. He would have torn her from her family, her people, and her birthright. But with Buffy… camaraderie had deepened to friendship and that friendship had come to love, until the very thought of her being in danger stole the breath from his lungs. He wanted to show Buffy his love for her; he wanted to give her a home, a family, and the honours she deserved. He knew she returned his feelings, and only her own unique sense of honour held her back. But he was determined to fight for her.

And he would not allow her to be taken away from him.

She had paid her dues, and if any sought to bring harm to her, they would have to go through him first.

Because he truly did not know what he would do if she died…

As he concentrated on it, the bond pulsed faintly in his mind, his only clue to where Buffy now was. It was weak but it was all he had to follow. By the Valar, let her be alright, he prayed. He walked past the many bodies of the dead, from their side and the enemy's, but he could not force himself to stop for any of them. The need he felt in the back of his mind kept growing stronger, as if time was of the essence.

And so he kept going, ignoring the blood and the death, and the great swath of destruction that was the Pelennor Fields and kept going, desperately hoping against hope that Buffy would appear out of nowhere, alive and unharmed, but then he looked at the great carcass of a dead dragon across the field and knew that his hope was a slim one indeed. For if such creatures had threatened Minas Tirith, there was no doubt in his mind that Buffy would have been the first one to go out and hunt them. He knew she had left the safety of the walls. He knew what the odds were. But despite the likelihood of disaster, he remembered Buffy at the Battle of Helms Deep and hoped to Eru himself that she was no worse off than she had been in the great fortress of Rohan.

Then suddenly, the gentle tug became an insistent yank and he knew he was close. He scanned the ground around him and then about twenty feet away, he saw her and his heart nearly gave out.

The image that he saw seared its way into his heart and would haunt his nightmares for years…

His legs shaky, they carried him forward as fast as they could, and with a cry of pain and horror he dropped onto his knees beside her still form.

Even as he shook his head in denial, his wide eyes registered the deathly pallor of her face; the way one arm hung limply, her golden hair spread in a pool of blood, the harsh, shallow, gasping breaths, the dark bruises, and the gaping wound in her midsection. One hand held her sword, slippery with blood, the weight pressing on the wound, stemming the crimson flow somewhat. That pressure was likely the only thing keeping her alive. As if mocking him, the Ring of Barahir hung loosely around her neck. He had not even known that she wore it. He wondered at its meaning and knew he might never get the chance to ask her why.

Carefully, he removed his cloak and folded it into a thick square; he threw the sword aside and pressed the cloth down over the wound, applying enough pressure to slow the bleeding. Using her belt to hold it in place, he spared no time to examine her further. There was no time. Buffy was dying and he had to get her to the Houses of Healing. He was _not_ going to let her die!

Gently, mindful of her injuries, he put a hand under her back and her knees and lifted her carefully, cradling her against him and then once she was securely in his grasp, he took off at a run for the Houses of Healing, praying that he was not too late and cursing himself at the same time for chasing her off to Gondor with Gandalf.

Tears welled up in his eyes and pain smote his heart as he clutched his dying love to him, holding her as carefully as one would a newborn babe, and he whispered comforting words to the unconscious slayer, imploring her to fight, to stay with him, to hold on just a little while longer…

As he sped onward, ignoring any who saw him, only one thought went through his head that was not about how to save her….

Sauron would pay…

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

He crashed through the doors with all the finesse of a Mûmak.

Heads swivelled towards him as the doors banged into the wall, cracking the plaster behind him, but he took no notice of his stares, intent on finding what he was looking for. Despite the woman dangling in his arms, no one immediately approached him because of his wild look. Nearby, Gandalf poked his head out a room and spotted the cause of the commotion.

The wizard's eyes widened at the sight of Buffy, and Pippin, peeking out from behind him, was openly goggling, but luckily for all involved, the wizard kept his composure. "Aragorn!" he called, "Bring her over here!"

Within seconds, Buffy was deposited on a bed and Gandalf had corralled Elladan and Elrohir, the two imps having been trained by Elrond, and the three brothers were examining her. Aragorn's hands shook as he catalogued the multitude of injuries inflicted upon one so beloved to him, and as he carefully touched her shoulder, seeking the wound beneath, he was forced to snatch his hand back as all too familiar cold flashed through him. Cursing, he ripped back her sleeves to see the foul wound. "From a Nazgûl blade," he hissed.

Elrohir immediately yanked him out of the way to inspect it for himself, "Another one, then…" he muttered, carefully prodding at the wound.

"Another one?" Aragorn asked.

Elladan nodded, "Lord Faramir, Lady Éowyn of Rohan and Merry are also stricken. All suffer under the Black Breath but none have a wound from a wraith's blade. But they are all drowning under darkness. I fear that we have not our father's skill. I do not know if we can bring them back. And we have already had to send out runners to find any athelas they could lay their hands on. These… Houses of Healing never use it."

"Lady Éowyn? And Merry?" Aragorn repeated, having almost forgotten about them in his grief, "What are they doing here? I thought Éomer had left them in Dunharrow." he asked, taking a hold of Buffy's hand,

"They came to fight," Gandalf said, "And the Lady of Rohan proved Glorfindel's words true. She killed the Witch-king. His evil is no more."

Aragorn reeled at the near impossible news but the distraction could not hold him for long, and his attention drifted back to Buffy, noting that Elladan and Elrohir were looking increasingly grim.

His throat dried as he thought the words, but he forced himself to speak them, "Is she dying?" he asked, looking at his brothers.

Elrohir met his gaze frankly, "I do not know, Aragorn," he answered, "She has lost a lot of blood, perhaps too much. And even without the wound to her abdomen, she was badly hurt. We will do what we can, but I can give you no certain answers, muindor."

Aragorn's voice shook as he clutched her limp hand tighter, "I cannot lose her," he whispered. "I cannot…"

Seeming to sense that Aragorn's distress was not his to see, Pippin discreetly left the room, while Gandalf gently separated the ranger from the slayer, "Come, Aragorn," he said, "Let them do what they can. You are too upset to help, you will only hinder them. Come, there are others who need your help now."

Aragorn nodded slightly, his eyes fixed on his meleth's form, "Heal her," he said, "Please…. She never deserved this…"

"We will do our best," Elladan promised as Gandalf led him away.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Despite their efforts, they were slipping away.

Pale as ghosts, their skin was deadly cold where it did not burn with fever, and their breathing laboured. One and all, they were losing them.

Imrahil and Éomer anxiously, with Éomer pacing the length of the room as he watched the healers work on his sister, who seemed to be slipping further and further away from their grasp with every passing breath.

Against the odds, mortal wisdom won out over Elvish skill, and it was Ioreth, stepping into the room with athelas for the twin Elven Lords of Rivendell, who unwittingly provided the answer. Once she was recovered from the shock of seeing Buffy anyway.

The twins had been alerted to the woman's plight when a loud crash was heard as she bumped into a washstand, eyes wide. "What ails you?" Elladan said, disliking the interruption and the subsequent gawking when their friend lay in such a perilous state. The woman merely pointed at Buffy, the athelas clutched tightly in her hand, "Well, what is it?" he demanded.

"It cannot be so!" Ioreth exclaimed, "Bless my soul, but it cannot be! She should be as aged as me!"

Elladan nodded in swiftly dawning comprehension, "You know her?"

"She is the spitting image of Lieutenant Eliza, but it must be nigh on fifty years since she was in Gondor!"

"Buffy is as long-lived as those of Númenórean descent," Elladan explained, "But she is gravely ill and so you must go. Gaping at her will help no one."

Ioreth did not like that. A renowned gossip, she did not like not knowing what was going on. "Buffy?" she repeated, "Is that not the name of the rumours? Tell me that _she_ is not the King's lady!"

Elrohir glared balefully at her, looking ready to pitch her from the room as he carefully stitched Buffy's wounds, "That is none of your business, woman," he snapped instead, "Now take your overactive tongue and be gone! Or do you not see that we are busy?!"

Ioreth sniffed and turned on her heel, "Well," she said huffily, "A pity the King is not here to see how you treat innocent people. After all, the hands of the king are the hands of a healer and if he was here, perhaps we would not need such sour tongued helpers!"

As she flounced out of the room, two sets of identical grey eyes were meeting each other across Buffy's bed.

Almost immediately, Elladan was bounding out of the room, shouting, "Aragorn! Get over here _now_!"

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Buoyed by Elladan's words, Aragorn carefully sat down beside Éowyn, feeling all the weight of Éomer's stare. His eyes were sad as he took in Éowyn's condition and he sought to comfort Éomer, "Her arm is broken but will mend with time," he said, placing several leaves of athelas into steaming water, "But darkness weighs over her spirit. Those who pit themselves against the Nazgûl must have wills of iron, and your sister has shown more courage than a hundred men but she faced the vilest wraith of all. And he a sorcerer at that. Now, her body and mind falter under the shadow's weight and it is that that puts her so close to passing from this world."

Taking one of her hands in his and placing a hand on her forehead, and concentrated. Images of darkness and despair wracked his mind. The Golden Hall broken and burned… Wormtongue… vanished hopes of glory…. And an ever present loneliness. Forcibly pushing them back and away from him, he called to her, wandering in the dark dreams of the Black Breath, spoke lowly to her of those she had left behind – Éomer who was grieving for her, the glory she had earned, the future that awaited her…

He could not tell if she heard him or believed any of what he said, but of a sudden, her breathing evened out and deepened, and the fever seemed to wash away, until she fell into a deep sleep.

Standing up, he turned to Éomer, "She merely sleeps now," he said, seeing Éomer nearly collapse with relief, "She will wake when she is ready and time will heal her wounds of the body. You should sit with her now. She loves you and you can reach her better than I."

Éomer merely nodded and took the seat beside his sister, his hand smoothing back the loose hair off her face.

Happy for them and yet despairing over Buffy and the future they stood to lose, he left them without a word.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_The Houses of Healing, Minas Tirith, Gondor, TA 3019, March 18 – just after midnight. _

He sat slumped over her bed, tenderly holding her uninjured hand, trying to will her to get better and yet with every passing moment, battling with the knowledge that nothing seemed to be working.

Buffy was still slowly dying.

While Faramir, Éowyn and Merry had been pulled back from the brink, and were now on their way to being hale and whole again, but the darkness kept drawing Buffy down deeper, to someplace that Aragorn could not follow.

Every hour dragged her further away from the living and her breathing grew increasingly laboured as he watched, fighting the urge to weep but afraid that some part of her was yet aware and would hear him. He had to be strong for her now.

The twins wandered about, proposing and trying new tactics that never made any difference and it was soon becoming clear to Aragorn that their skill was near exhausted. They were losing the fight to save Buffy.

Aragorn could feel that indescribable feeling in his mind growing fainter and fainter, but he clutched to that thread which tied them together with all his might, willing his strength into Buffy. Hers was failing fast and it seemed that it was only Aragorn's borrowed strength kept her afloat. And so he sat there, willing and hoping, talking to her – nay, begging her to come back to him. He vacillated from pleading to demanding and back again. He was trying to remind Buffy of that very stubbornness that had kept her alive for so long when Elrohir placed a hand on his shoulder, urging him to look up.

His brother's expression was dark, valiantly trying to hide his sorrow, but Aragorn saw it clearly and it smote his heart with such pain that no weapon of the Shadow could ever to inflict. "I am sorry, Aragorn," he began softly, "We have tried everything to no avail. The darkness weighs heavily upon her and we cannot lift it. She does not have long left to this world…"

"No!" Aragorn exclaimed hoarsely, his white knuckled grip on Buffy's hand tightening, "She cannot be dying…. She cannot… You trained under Elrond… Do not tell me that you cannot help her!"

Elrohir took the criticism stoically, "I am sorry, Aragorn," he repeated sadly, "But Sauron's malice is killing her. He drags her down to her death and will not ease his grasp. I cannot dislodge this. Gandalf is thinking but he has never thrown his strength against Sauron's will before and he fears that the battle between them would kill her. She is a mortal, though one gifted by the Valar, she still possesses a human's weaknesses. Her body is weakened, her mind is under assault. The chances are that she would not survive Gandalf's attempts to save her."

Aragorn's head bowed and he stared at Buffy's pale face as if searching for something, "Why?" he asked after a moment.

Elrohir looked at him, "Why what?"

"Why Buffy?" Aragorn said, his temper flaring, "Why her and not Faramir or Éowyn or Merry? Why does he hold onto her when word has surely reached him of the Pelennor's outcome?"

The ranger could tell that the Elf did not want to answer but his intense stare eventually provoked him into speaking, ""Because of the four of them," Elrohir explained, "He latched onto the one you care about the most, - the one who it would hurt you the most to lose. Rohan and Gondor will stand whatever happens to Éowyn and Faramir, Merry is considered inconsequential, but he remembers Buffy. He loosened his hold on the others so he could keep you from her. Denethor knew too much it seems, and had too little wisdom to keep his bitterness to himself. The palantír told Sauron much and though I do not understand it, Sauron seems to want her dead so much that he is willing to intervene himself."

"So it is partly because of me that she lies in this state?" Aragorn said bitterly, "Would that she had stayed in Rivendell! You at least have the luxury that your loved ones are safe. They are not hunted because of you."

Elrohir was pained by the sight of his brother's anguish, "She was not hunted because of you," he said, "Long has she been a thorn in his side. He may not know her origins but he has always known that he wants her dead. Evil needs no other reason to act. This attack could have been provoked by her defence of the city or by some action decades ago. Blame Sauron if you must, but do not blame yourself. I know how you feel Aragorn. When naneth was attacked, she took a poisoned wound and very nearly died because of her torment. For a long time, Elladan and I thought ourselves to blame but daernaneth and adar eventually showed us that we were wrong. Naneth sailed West soon after and it has been five hundred years since I have seen her or heard from her. I know that you want to strike out, that your grief is terrible but I pray, do not let it consume you. We hunted orcs and the servants of the Enemy for centuries and it never appeased our pain but only fed our grief."

"But you will see Celebrían again, when you pass West," Aragorn said, "If Buffy passes than mayhap we shall never see each other again and the love that might have been will be lost forever. What did she do to deserve this, Elrohir? Her life has been harder than we can guess, I know. She does not talk of her past often but I have gleaned that it was terrible. After all her sacrifice, does she not deserve a chance to live without fear of the Shadow? We finally have an end in sight and yet here she lies, never to see it! It is not fair! Why does it always have to be her?!"

Aragorn's mind was racing, memories of this woman who possessed his heart flashing through his mind; her lively wit, her indomitable stubbornness, her enormous courage at Helms Deep…

With a jolt, he sat up straight and he scrabbled at Buffy's hand, and after a moment of concentration, he spotted that which he knew was there but was hidden from sight. Gently, ignoring Elrohir's questions, he slid the flashing ring off Buffy's finger and with an almost visible wink, it became visible once more.

Elrohir gaped as the Ring of Fire sparkled in Aragorn's palm.

The ranger looked upon Narya as the answer to his prayers, the one hope that he had left.

'Twas a rare occasion indeed that saw a son of Elrond speechless, but Elrohir only managed incoherent babble as he stared at the object of legend, something that Buffy had been guarding. Buffy? A Ringbearer?

Aragorn saw his shock and answered his unspoken questions, hope flaring in his eyes for the first time, along with a burning determination, "I had forgotten about this," he said, "Buffy used Narya at Helms Deep and thus revealed herself. Apparently, Gandalf gave it into her charge. And this may yet be the key to saving her! Get Gandalf in here now!" he ordered.

With one last glance at the Elven ring, Elrohir nodded sharply and flew out of the room in search of the wily wizard.

After all, he thought with a sense of giddy excitement, Aragorn's idea just might work….

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Gandalf's bushy eyebrows drew together as he listened to Aragorn's idea, "That might just work," he said after a moment, "But it is not without risk. You are the last of your line, Aragorn. I do not think you should risk yourself like this."

"So you would have me let her rot?!" Aragorn demanded, "No, Gandalf. Buffy and I have some sort of a bond. The Lady of the Wood told me about it and Buffy well knew of it when I confronted her about it. The Ring of Fire answers to Buffy now. Why cannot I persuade it to help her? I will not allow Buffy to die if I can do something to prevent it! She is my heart, Gandalf, I cannot lose her now. And she deserves better than this."

"Well, at least your resolve is firm," Gandalf said, "My staff is broken and I have not yet fixed it so it might be just as well that this course is open to you. But I warn you, Narya does not answer to those who are weak-willed. The Ring will judge you and if you are found wanting, I know not what will become of you."

"I shall not be dissuaded, Gandalf," the man answered firmly, "She is worth the risk. Now please, help me. What must I do?"

"The Three are free now, and I know not if Narya has the strength to keep Buffy from passing beyond the circles of this world," the wizard replied thoughtfully, "To accomplish what you seek, you must do something that has not been attempted before. I think that you must have the help of Elrond and Galadriel. Elrond is the most skilled at healing, and Galadriel the most adept at challenging Sauron. But they cannot come to you, so you must call to them through their rings, Nenya and Vilya. It has never been done before. Nor have the bearers been so summarily revealed. Aragorn, do you understand the dangers involved in doing this? This could kill you and her. Are you still set on this?"

"I shall not let the darkness take her," Aragorn said firmly, "Whether she ever returns my feelings or not, she deserves to live and be recognised for every sacrifice she has made for Middle Earth. I have seldom seen a more stubborn person. She did not give up on me when I lingered close to death. Why should I not do the same for her? She risked her own life, and mine to save me and it worked. If I must try to reach Elrond and Galadriel, I will do so. I will not give up on her, Gandalf."

The wizard nodded, "Then I will assure no one disturbs you." He offered, "Put the Ring on and tread carefully, Aragorn. And remember, despite your efforts, she has to want to come back. May the Valar be with you, Elessar."

Sitting down on the bed and pulling Buffy into his arms, Aragorn fervently hoped that Elbereth would take pity on them, and then he slipped on the Ring of Fire and left the real world entirely.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

He stood in what seemed to be some sort of burial ground. It was dark, but something was off… and that something made his hair stand on end.

It felt like the Black Land, like some evil slept underneath his feet. It was eerie but somehow he knew that Buffy was here somewhere, lost in this darkness.

He had no time to investigate though as Narya flashed on his hand. He had to wrestle to control the Ring and even then he sensed that the only reason that he had a modicum of control was because he was seeking to help its mistress. The more he fought with it, the more it became obvious that it was ten times easier to let Narya take the lead. It was bound to Buffy and Aragorn no longer needed to wonder why. Buffy's stubbornness suited Narya's headstrong attitude. He never thought he would describe a Ring as having a personality of sorts but he half suspected that it was through its link to Buffy that gave it those characteristics.

Pushing his musings out of his head, he concentrated on Elrond and Galadriel, having to trust Narya to reach out to the Rings of Air and Adamant.

His eyes snapped open at a gentle touch to his arm. He had taken an involuntary leap backwards before he recognised the intruder as the Lady of the Golden Wood. Her customary white dress seemed out of place in this strange land. "Suilad Elessar," she said, "Dire need has called me here. Tell me what has happened."

Aragorn looked around, "Wait, where is Elrond?" he asked, "Narya was supposed to call him too."

"Elrond has to man the Bruinen and cannot leave Rivendell unguarded," she explained, "The forces of the Enemy search for a way past the river. Rivendell will remain unassailed while the Bruinen comes at his command. But he is aware that he is called and Vilya will help if she can. Now, tell me, why have you called us here? My mirror shows that Minas Tirith stands. What need have you?"

"Buffy is dying," he choked out, "She was injured by a Nazgûl blade and near beaten to death as well as being run through by a sword. Elrohir said that Sauron's malice is killing her. The Elven rings are my last chance…. If this does not work, then Buffy is soon going to die…"

"This is a cruel end indeed," Galadriel said, nodding, "What you ask is difficult, but it can be done. The Three are stronger now than they ever were. It just might work. But listen to me, a choice lies before you, Elessar," she said, "Her freedom draws near. Her years of service are waning. If you save her, would you shackle her to you or would you let her fly free?"

"It would break my heart, for I love her as I love no other, but I could not cage her." Aragorn replied, eyes dark with despair, "I would let her go and wish her happiness if she truly desired it. But I know she loves me. I may not know why she runs, but I know that she can be caught. Why do you ask?"

"Because Buffy's past was hard and her love was fraught with doom." Galadriel answered, "At the moment, I think she is caught up in that past, or at least those memories which cause her pain. To bring her back, to release Sauron's hold on her, you will have to show her a future worth fighting for. What I tell you now, Elessar, is never to be traced back to me. Understand?"

Aragorn just shook his head, and here he had thought that the twins and Arwen only got it from Elrond's side. Apparently, Galadriel had had her playful and devious heyday too. The very image of a much younger, beautiful, precocious and conniving Galadriel was enough to make him shudder. No wonder Elrond never seemed to go against his wife's mother. "I understand," he said quickly, "Please, there is not much time…"

"Buffy has always known what your destiny is. She knows that you will be king," Galadriel explained, "While you and Arwen were together, she knew she did not have a chance but her heart was given anyway. She does love you. She has for a very long time. But she is afraid. And that is something that she will never admit. To be your wife, she would have to be Queen. A Queen of Gondor would traditionally be nobility and she feels that her past is something to be mocked. Also, she does not think herself suited to the role. And more importantly, she knows that you will want children. She does not feel she has what it takes to be a mother. She thinks that she has been a warrior too long. In short, she thinks a slayer cannot settle down. She thinks that position will cage her. That perception is what you have to reverse Elessar."

Aragorn digested the Lady's words and inwardly, acknowledged them as sense but they were concerns he had never thought of before. Feeling like a dunce, he thought that he should have realised some of Buffy's concerns. "How do I find her?" he asked.

"Look into your heart," she advised, "Concentrate on Buffy and Narya will do the rest."

Aragorn concentrated on his love and felt the world shift around him. When he opened his eyes again, Galadriel was a little ways behind him, observing him and Buffy was at last in his line of sight.

She looked… defeated, curled up into a ball on the grass as figures came and went from thin air, staying only long enough to torment her a little before making way for the next ghost of her past. As he watched, a tall dark-haired man stalked her with a viscous smirk, "You never learn, do you?" he gloated gleefully, "This wasn't about you. This was never about you. And you fall for it every single time!"

The man disappeared just as Aragorn moved closer and a dark-skinned woman appeared, "You let her kill me!" she said in a strange accent. Buffy whimpered, and he saw that her wounds of the body also afflicted her here.

Carefully, as one would approach a skittish animal, he moved closer, "Buffy?" he called softly.

Her head jerked up, and her eyes widened at the sight of him, though blurred through tears, "Aragorn?" she said incredulously.

"Oh Buffy!" he exclaimed, "Why do you linger here? Why can you not come back to us… to me?"

"The way is blocked," Buffy said dully, "You shouldn't be here. Go back. You have to go be kingly and all that."

"I could no sooner leave you here than become a Dwarf!" Aragorn replied, "Did you think that I would not come for you?"

"You shouldn't be here," she repeated, "Go away Aragorn. There is nothing for you here."

"I cannot." He said, reaching out to touch her.

She pushed him away, "Can't you just leave me alone?!" she cried, staggering to her feet, swaying as she did so, "Maybe it isn't so bad here! I already got torn out of heaven once! Why can't you just let me go?!"

Aragorn grasped her elbow before she could bolt, "Because I love you," he said clearly, "Because I want you, need you, as my lover, my wife, the keeper of my heart! I cannot abandon you to torment!"

Due to her weakness, he easily contained her struggles as he took her into his arms. Galadriel's voice echoed in his mind, just as those intent blue eyes watched carefully, lending the strength of Nenya and Vilya. '_To release Sauron's hold on her, you will have to show her a future worth fighting for…_.'

Concentrating, he felt the world shift again, and this time things had changed for the better. Buffy gasped as her wounds disappeared and instead of her ragged and bloodied warrior's garb, she was clad as a Queen. Looking around, he saw that they were in the citadel of Minas Tirith. Buffy recognised it immediately, "What did you do?!" she demanded, pulling herself out of his arms and looking down at her appearance in consternation. "What did you do Aragorn?!"

"Nana!" a high pitched voice cried out happily as a small, dark-haired figure barrelled into the room and ran right over to Buffy, tugging at her skirts and holding a piece of parchment, "Nana! Look!" the little boy said, beaming up at her, and shoving the picture into her hand.

She stared at the little boy, "W-what did you call me?" she asked faintly.

"Nana," the boy repeated obediently, and then looked at Aragorn, reaching over to grab his hand, "Look ada! I drew a picture!" His eyes watered as he stared at the little boy who could be… at their son…

Buffy's breath caught at his words, and she shook her head, "No," she whispered, eyes fixed on the boy, "This isn't possible…"

"Why?" Aragorn demanded, "Why is not possible? You do not have to be frightened… This war clears the path for a bright future, which the Shadow cannot pollute. Why can you not be both a warrior and a Queen? Galadriel fought at Doriath and yet was mother to Celebrían. Elrond was a warrior who became a ruler and then a father. Why can you not accept what can be meleth? Why do you falter at the thought of security, of peace, of love…? Why can you not be Queen? You are one of the most honourable people I know. And a mother? I should think you would be an excellent mother. We could be happy together, Buffy…. I know it. Who cares what the world thinks? I love you and if I dare to marry a hero of the Pelennor Fields and a valiant defender of Gondor, do you think anyone would object? Not that I would care, because I love you… Marry me, Buffy. Be my love, my wife. Let yourself be happy for once…"

The little boy tugged on Buffy's skirts once more and lifted his hands in the universal gesture for 'up'. Almost unconsciously, Buffy scooped up the little boy, hugging him to her, but she made no reply. After a moment, her lips curved into a small smile, "Thank you…" she said and then with a flicker, she and the little boy disappeared.

Aragorn darted forward but they were gone, "Buffy!" he called out in anguish.

Galadriel came forward, "You did it," she said, "The darkness is gone. She sleeps now. You called her back."

"She is alive?" Aragorn asked, hardly daring to believe it.

"She sleeps in her bed and should be well, Elessar," Galadriel replied, "When you go back, replace Narya and share your blood with her. A small cut will suffice. It will activate your side of the bond and lend her the strength needed to overcome her wounds. You have called her back but her body is weak and will need much time to recover."

Aragorn clasped her hands, "Thank you…" he said fervently and then both disappeared back to where their bodies slumbered.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The twins found them some time later, bloodied palms clutched together and Aragorn leaning against the headboard, cradling her head in his lap.

Checking on their patient, they found the darkness gone and some new connection between slayer and ranger. They left them be though, sensing even Aragorn needed rest now and mollified that things were finally looking up, they withdrew and stood guard outside the room to ensure that no one disturbed them.

Only time would now tell whether Aragorn's gamble had paid off…

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_The Houses of Healing, Minas Tirith, Gondor, TA 3019, March 18. – Afternoon._

Aragorn stirred as he was shook slightly. Cracking open his eyes with a groan, he saw Elladan waiting for him with a smile. "What do you want at this hour, you orc?" he yawned.

Elladan glared half-heartedly at him, "Well, I did think to wake you and tell you that the danger has passed and Buffy will now be well, but if all I am to receive is insults, I may as well go and taunt the Dwarf…"

He made as if to leave but Aragorn grabbed his arm before he could go, snapping awake, "She is safe?!" he demanded, looking down at the small blonde head in his lap.

"She will be well with time," Elladan said, "She will be in some pain and as weak as a newborn babe for a while, but she will get better. What did you do Aragorn?"

"I asked her to marry me," Aragorn said, ignoring his brother's astonished stare as he mulled on what he had seen, "I saw our son, muindor…"

"Your son?" Elladan repeated, "Did you foresee this or must I assume that you have hit your head somewhere?"

"I saw it," Aragorn replied, ignoring the jobe, giddy with relief and hope, "I think that I may have gotten through to her, Elladan. I think she may consent to be my wife after all."

Elladan nodded, "And what did you do to form such a bond between you?" he asked, "Elrohir and I felt it last night. It strengthened her through the night and dragged her away from the danger."

"She saved my life many years ago and thus formed this bond. I formed my half of it to activate it in full as per your grandmother's impeccable instructions, to help her recover. Call it a marriage in all but name, I suppose."

"Just pray that she does not kill you when she is in her right mind," Elladan said dryly, "Even weakened, her aim will be no worse, muindor. I would be careful not to get hit with a vase! But come, she is out of danger now and the war waits for no man. The healers have been instructed implicitly in how to take care of her and handle her… unique character, but you must meet with everybody in the throne room. Do try to hurry, before the Dwarf gets too comfortable. His armour smells like wet bear."

Dislodging himself carefully, Aragorn tucked her into the blankets and pressed a kiss to her forehead, "Amin mela lle, melethril."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**A/N: **Well? I have provided you with some fluffy moments in recompense for the multitude of angst. More fluff is to come, but please let me know if I am doing it right! And see? I didn't kill her! Please **READ **and **REVIEW**!!!!

_Next chapter: _Debates over the future… Éowyn and Faramir have a little run in…. the twins are up to mischief… Buffy gets some actual lines… and of course, by popular demand, some fluff…

**VOTE:** Okay, your responses helped me decide whether to give Buffy a second, more impressive official, name and you guys incidentally chose the option that I was leaning towards myself. The result – Buffy gets a second name. Now, I am stuck on which one of the following list would suit her better, though I do have my favourites. So I decided that you, my dear treasured readers and even more treasured reviewers, would get to help me decide. Please tell me which name you would prefer Buffy to have and I will take a tally and see what the winner is. In picking a selection of names, I have tried to make them have a connection to the past or the hoped for future. After all, Aragorn's name 'Elessar' means Elf-stone, and the Elfstone brings renewal.

1) Nárelle – Fire-maiden

2) Silmarien – name of a daughter of the Númenórean King Tar-Elendil, she would be Elendil of Gondor's, and thus Aragorn's, ancestor.

3) Ancalimë – bright, - the name of the beautiful and wilful first Ruling Queen of Númenor, whose reign would be the longest after Elros's.

4) Vanimeldë – beautiful, - name of the third Ruling Queen of Númenor.

5) Tindóremel – Daughter of the Twilight

6) Lauriël – golden or more precisely 'garlanded with gold'.

_Elvish:_

Dagnir – slayer

Muindor – brother

Meleth – love

Naneth - mother

Daernaneth – grandmother

Adar – father

Elessar – Elf-stone

Suilad – Greetings

Nana – Mom/Mommy

Ada – dad/daddy

Amin mela lle – I love you

Melethril – lover (female)

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Bruinen _- translated: Loudwater. The river bordering the valley of Rivendell. It is under Elrond's sway and he can make it flood at need.

_Celebrían _- Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.

_Doriath _- An Elvish Kingdom in the First Age. Ruled by King Thingol Greycloak, husband to the Maia, Melian, and father to Lúthien Tinúviel. Melian wove a series of enchantments to form an impenetrable border to the realm called Melian's Girdle. Celeborn and Thranduil lived there in the First Age. Galadriel visited there. Was destroyed first by Dwarves, then by kinslayings.

_Dunharrow _- Fortified refuge in the Ered Nimrais. It is the mountain refuge of the people of Rohan. And the entrance to the Paths of the Dead is there.

_Gríma Wormtongue _- Counsellor of King Théoden and agent of Saruman.

_House of Eorl _- the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

_Imrahil _- Prince of Dol Amroth at the time of the War of the Ring. The line of the Princes of Dol Amroth is said to be of Elvish descent, a foremother being a Silvan Elf and a handmaiden of the Elleth Nimrodel of Lórien. Father of Lothíriel. Denethor's brother-in-law. Uncle to Faramir and Boromir.

_Ioreth _- During the War of the Ring, she is the oldest woman in the Houses of Healing. She was in the Houses of Healing when Eliza served in Gondor back in 2971.

_Narya _- the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.

_Naugrim _- 'stunted ones'. Elvish term for Dwarves.

_Nenya _- The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.

_Númenor _- Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

_Palantír _- one of the seven seeing stones that were scattered throughout Gondor and Arnor during the reign of Elendil. For the last few centuries, they have been considered unsafe to use as it is believed that one of them is in the possession of Sauron.

_Pelennor fields _- 'Fenced Land'. The 'town lands' of Minas Tirith. Guarded by the wall of Rammas Echor.

_Rammas Echor _- out-wall. For ten leagues or so it ran, from the mountains' feet and back again, enclosing in its fence the fields of the Pelennor.

_Ring of Barahir _- Heirloom of the House of Isildur.

_Vilya _- the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

('·.¸('·.¸ ¸.·'´) ¸.·'´)  
«´¨ Asha D ¨»  
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	57. To Follow A Heart

**FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER**

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but the plot.

**Summary**: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Now, it seems that the Pelennor has been won… But at a cost some might not have been willing to pay…. The Battle is won, but the War is not. Can the people of Middle Earth topple Sauron? And can Frodo and Sam now avoid the chase? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And in the aftermath of everything, can anything bloom?

**Author's notes: **Hi! I'm back! I am SO sorry for the delay! I humbly beg your forgiveness! Real Life has been a pain and though I always intended to get around to finishing this chapter, somehow I never did.

Okay, on another note, the winner of the name vote is Nárelle, pronounced much like its written: - Nar – Elle. And several of you pointed out that because other people have two names, for example, Arwen Undómiel, Legolas Greenleaf, Buffy should have one too. So to this I would just like to say that Aragorn is going to become 'Aragorn Elessar' with Elessar being the official name and Aragorn used amongst friends and family so Buffy will become 'Buffy Nárelle' with Nárelle as the official name. Besides, if she ever marries, she gains her husband's house name anyway.

**PS:** During my long hiatus, this story won the best crossover (book) pairing category at Round 7 of The Sunnydale Memorial Fanfiction Awards. This came as an extremely pleasant surprise and my heartfelt thanks goes out to all those who voted. I thank you. 

**PS.3** – We're in the final countdown now. After this chapter, we have approx. four more chapters left. The end is nigh. (Sniffles)

**CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN: TO FOLLOW A HEART**

_We can't all be heroes because somebody has to sit on the curb and clap as they go by. _

_- Will Rogers _

_The Throne Room, The Citadel, Minas Tirith, Gondor, TA 3019, March 18. – Afternoon._

The small group lay sprawled about the room in varying states of exhaustion. Only Gandalf stood, pacing around the room, clutching his newly fixed staff, brows drawn together in concentration. Gimli had claimed the steward's seat, much to Imrahil's indignation, and was contentedly puffing on his pipe, sending billows of smoke at the three Elves grouped in the corner, plainly detesting the foul habit. While Aragorn and Imrahil seemed content to wait on the wizard, frankly Éomer could not take any more of the constant pacing and inaudible mutterings. "Would you please stop doing that?" he said, breaking the silence, "You are giving me a pain to look at you. If you have something to say will you say it before the Elves kill the Dwarf?"

Gandalf swung around to glare at him, "I would not be so casual, son of Éomund," he said warningly, "Trouble chases our heels and you worry over a Dwarf?"

This time it was Gimli's turn to look at the wizard with consternation as smirks broke out on the Elves' faces. "What?!"

"What ails you then?" Éomer said, speaking over Gimli's sputtering, "You brought us here for something, but we are all weary and battlesore. Why this delay?"

Gandalf shared a glance with Aragorn, and then spoke, "Because a most disastrous event happened during the battle," he began, "As you all know by now, all our hopes rest with Frodo. You have seen what might Sauron threw at Gondor, but he is not yet done, nor is the Black Land empty. He will come again and again if he must, until no one is left alive in these lands and then he will sweep west until he has all of Middle Earth under his sway. Frodo and Sam are our only hope to prevent this now. Few tidings have I had of them, and the last from Faramir, who met them in Ithilien. They were making for the pass of Cirith Ungol, despite warnings, with a creature called Gollum in their employ and after their departure, nothing more has been heard from them. Denethor learned of this, and he made a mistake that may prove our undoing. In the grasp of the Witch-king, he told the Morgul Lord that he knew the location of the One Ring. Alas, he died before I could find out how much he had said. The Witch-king is now dead, but we do not know if he managed to get a message through. It is a disastrous business. We know not what Sauron knows and therefore, how can we match his moves? I need not tell you that if Sauron regains the ring, then I think all will be lost. The darkness about us is deepening. I cannot see anything of use. We walk blindly now."

Aragorn stood up and tried to soothe the worried wizard, "If Sauron had the Ring we would know it." He said calmly, "He would not wait to claim it. You know this. He does not have it."

"Yet." Gandalf sighed and leaned on his staff, "But it is only a matter of time. If the Witch-king got even an inkling of his message through, Sauron will close the gates to Mordor and hunt them down."

"Surely he has other things to think about?" Gimli pointed out, puffing away, "We sent his army scurrying back to Mordor."

Gandalf just stared at him, "Sauron may have suffered a defeat, son of Glóin, but he is not near finished. Behind the walls of the Black Land, he regroups and if he finds out where the Ring is, he will hunt Frodo down and take the Ring for his own. And then he will come again, and this time, no spirits will come to our aid."

"The Witch-king is dead. Éomer's lass here killed him," Gimli argued, with a nod in Éomer's direction, "Chances are he does not have any idea where Frodo is. We chased his army out of Gondor and Frodo is alive; why not let Sauron rot for the time being!"

"Because if we're wrong, then it is the end of all," Imrahil said, "Out of all present here, none of you have lived here these past few years. Only Lord Éomer can truly understand the pressures that Sauron has placed upon our lands. We barely survived this time. I do not think we can count on my lord Aragorn to summon another army of ghosts to save us. If Sauron sends forth his armies again, the lands of Men _will_ fall. Minas Tirith's walls are broken, our resources stretched, and our hearts weary. We cannot expect to win again. If Sauron comes, we will fight and fall and what remnants of us survive will be forced to flee even knowing that Sauron will follow until he has conquered all. We all know this to be true."

Gimli was silent at that, but Elladan sighed, "He is right. The Last Alliance's victory was as much luck as skill, and we are a far cry from that army. But your worry is not confined to our chances at battle, my friend. Frodo's fate is out of your hands, Gandalf. You must let him go."

"I cannot help but feel that I have sent him to his death." The wizard sighed.

"It was his choice." Elladan replied, "Frodo's fate is not ours to decide. Our cause is not hopeless yet after all. As loath as I am to agree with a Dwarf, we _did_ have a victory and Sauron will not be best pleased. And thank to my dear brother here, I would say that he is currently fretting over the reappearance of Isildur's Heir more than any enemies within his lands. If we have any measure of luck, if the Witch King did try to get a message to him, he will assume that it is over Aragorn and not the Ring."

"We cannot afford wishful thinking, Elladan," Gandalf answered, "Even if luck is with is and Sauron does not know, thousands of orcs now stand between Frodo and Mount Doom and as of yet, I have no idea what to do about it."

Aragorn pushed himself away from where he leant against the wall, "It is not yet hopeless." He said firmly, "Frodo will do what he must but he needs time and safe passage across the Plains of Gorgoroth. We can give him that."

The twins and Legolas suddenly looked worried and three Elven heads swivelled around to pin the mortal with their eyes. "Dare I even ask how?" Elrohir said dryly.

As Aragorn spoke, Gimli choked on his pipe, Elrohir hung his head, Legolas looked like he was contemplating what to tell Elrond and Éomer and Imrahil were just staring at him, "Draw out Sauron's armies." Aragorn insisted, "Empty his lands. Then we gather our full strength and march on the Black Gate."

"You do realise that you are needed _alive_, yes?" Legolas said, shaking his head in dismay, "I think Sauron would be more merciful than Buffy if I let you do something… how did she put it?... oh yes, _suicidal_! And do I really have to mention Lord Elrond's reaction?"

Éomer snapped his gaze away from Aragorn, "We cannot achieve victory though strength of arms." He pointed out, "Sauron would laugh us out of Mordor, not engage us. He has to know how badly his attack damaged us. We have no hope of even surviving if we do this."

"And Adar would gut us himself," Elrohir protested, "Did you by chance hit your head during the battle to contemplate this insane idea?"

Elladan cleared his throat and looked pointedly at his twin, "I told you that dropping him on his head was a bad idea. He grew up with addled wits."

Elrohir glared at him, whilst Legolas perked up, "That does explain so much…" he murmured.

"I am not saying this in jest. Here or there, we are going to have to face Sauron again." Aragorn insisted, "And I for one would rather it be as far away from this city as possible! Also, if it buys Frodo the time he needs to destroy the Ring, then any sacrifice is worth the freedom of Middle Earth. This would be a chance for Frodo, not ourselves. If Sauron's Eye is fixed upon us, it will keep him blind to all else that moves."

"While the diversion plan generally has its merits, it also has a tendency to go dramatically wrong." Legolas pointed out, "You would drain both Gondor and Rohan of most of their warriors. If this fails, they are left vulnerable."

Imrahil nodded, "Yes, but seeing as we have the unfortunate problem of huge gaping rents in our city walls and the utter destruction of the Rammas Echor, Minas Tirith is already vulnerable and from the tales I have heard, Rohan's main fortress is in a similar state of disrepair. We are already vulnerable. Without strong walls, victory is but a dream."

"If we have nowhere to run, then we must go forward." Éomer said, "You have not yet led us astray, Aragorn. If this is the end we must meet, then let us meet it whilst spitting in the Dark Lord's face."

Gimli nodded, "Certainty of death." He said gruffly, but with a certain maniacal cheer, blowing out a great cloud of smoke, "Small chance of success. Sounds like decent sport. What are we waiting for?"

The trio of Elves shared a look, and then nodded too. Gandalf, however, levelled a steady look upon the ranger as he drew him aside, "Sauron will suspect a trap. He will not take the bait."

Aragorn's eyes flashed, "Oh, I think he will." He said darkly, "With the right provocation."

Gandalf's eyebrows drew down until they met, intent eyes searching out Aragorn's purpose and the reasons behind it and seeing far too much for Aragorn to be comfortable, "Do not let your anger blind you, Aragorn," the wizard cautioned softly, "If you wish to taunt him, do it for the right reasons and leave revenge out of it."

Aragorn pulled away from him, his expression saying what he did not, and turning on his heel, he headed away, towards the palantír and towards his destiny.

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Darkness, both real and metaphorical, hung over the city like a ragged blanket. Despite the initial jubilation of an unthought-of victory, hearts were heavy. Smoke and dust still hung in the air like a fog, carrying with it the sharp tang of blood, the sweat and grime from the grisly task of helping the injured and collecting the dead, and the echoes of the desperate calls for missing friends and comrades still lingering like ghosts over the battlefield. Though the great mounds of carcasses had been set alight at the far end of the Pelennor, the foul stench of their enemies' seared flesh and charred armour rose up in a gigantic plume of black smoke that stretched out its arm to the battered city. The smell clung to Aragorn's clothes and seemed to settle deep into his very skin.

The very air of the city seethed with tension as the word had spread that the commanders would lead out an army to challenge Mordor. What bravado there had been before the near fatal siege had been leached away by the realisation that Mordor had a near limitless supply of men and orcs, whilst they were struggling to make a stand.

His day had been spent making preparations for what could likely be the last journey this army would ever make, save that to their fathers' halls. He was exhausted and his mind was worn. He longed for rest but his feet carried him ever onward, to the Houses of Healing, and to Buffy.

The long corridors were mercifully empty, so his way was unhindered and unmarked as he reached her door, left open in case of need. He stood in that doorway for a long time; a shadow on the threshold, watching, staring, committing this moment of peace to memory in case it was his last.

He had been a soldier for seven decades past; doomed to wander paths that others had forgotten or had feared to tread. The shadow of Mordor had dogged his footsteps since he was but a babe in his mother's embrace. Always he had been warned of the fate the Enemy would grant him. Tomorrow, after long years of evasion and toil, he would ride out to meet it, to whatever end. The fate of all of Middle Earth rested in the hands of Frodo and Sam now, and he would gladly die if it meant that the two brave hobbits would accomplish their task. Still, however battle-hardened he might be, no man set forth on such a task without something to sustain him. Duty was a harsh and unforgiving mistress and on an eve such as this, he needed a more soothing presence.

As ill and hurt as she was now; she lived, and that was all the knowledge that was necessary to give him the courage to do what must be done.

Faint moonlight spilled in the open window, casting a silvery sheen on everything it touched. Buffy lay asleep, golden hair bleached silver; with skin so pale it seemed translucent.

She looked small, he decided, dwarfed by the large bed.

She looked wrong.

Buffy, his Buffy, was coiled power, mischief waiting to be unleashed, a veritable whirlwind of words, and gestures and energy. For her to be so pale and still was such the complete opposite of everything she was as to be criminal.

But even battered and bruised, paler than the white blankets around her, she was beautiful to his eyes.

He entered the room at last, pulling the door shut behind him. He disregarded the chair, instead perching on the bed, one hand reaching out to play with the soft strands of gold. She stirred softly at his light touch, eyelids fluttering restlessly before sinking back into the depths of slumber. He urged her down, knowing how much she needed to heal even as her movements gave him hope that everything would be all right. He did not need her to wake if he knew that she would be well. No doubt furious beyond all reckonable measures when she came to and realised that the armies had left without her, but he would sleep sounder and rest easier if he knew she was safe behind the walls of Minas Tirith, as war-weary and battered as they were.

Already, she had sacrificed too much for a fight that had never been hers. She had not been born of this world. She could have walked away at any time, left the toils of war behind, and yet she stayed even when all hope seemed to have disappeared. She had paid the price for that faith.

He gently lay a hand over the wound that should have claimed her life, as if his warmth could ease the faint chill that lingered there; a chill that could never be fully erased as long as the One Ring existed and the Nazgûl flew. He remembered a time, long ago, when a Morgul Blade could not have caused such damage to her but the power of the Enemy had grown since then and Buffy's own resistance had waned, until she stood before their poisoned wrath as vulnerable as any creature of Middle Earth.

His eyes were drawn to the ring on her finger, always visible to his eyes now, its great fire dimmed until only the faintest of sparks shone in its depths. It had called her back from the wings of the Shadow, had kept her whole and returned her to the land of the living. Aragorn was no expert on the three Elven Rings but every time he looked at the darkened gem, he felt a frisson of unease shoot down his spine. A price had been paid, he knew, but he had no idea as to what and no time was left to him to find out.

The army of the west rode out tomorrow, with little intention of coming back, and he would play the part of a king. Gandalf had already given him armour etched with the White Tree of Gondor; all the better for the Heir of Elendil to call out Mordor. Tomorrow was the work of war, but tonight was for rest and finding what comfort you could.

"I am leaving tomorrow," Aragorn said, absently toying with her hair, unable to just walk away without saying a word to her and even less able to put his maelstrom of feelings to paper, "We ride for Mordor, to be a distraction for Frodo. We hope that this will empty the Black Lands for him long enough that he can get the One Ring to Mount Doom and destroy it without the Eye of Sauron falling upon him. The chances are good that we shall not return, though I shall try my best."

He took her small hand in his own, "I do not want to leave you and yet I cannot say that my heart is not lightened by the knowledge that you are here and as safe as you can be at the moment. I can only imagine your fury if you are able to hear this, and the only advice I have to offer is the same that I gave Éowyn once. If all goes ill and by some foul chance of fate, Sauron triumphs, then you shall be one of the few to defend this city and may you defend it long. I love you, meleth. So much so that at times it seems to steal my heart right out of my chest and I can barely breathe. It nearly stopped beating when I found you on the Pelennor… you should have stayed behind the walls! You cannot fight every monster, meleth. No matter what you think, I fell in love with a woman, not a slayer and _no one _expects you to drive yourself to death taking on these foul creatures." He took a deep breath, "I need you to get well, Buffy and I want you to be happy. If I return, I am going to tell you this over and over again until you believe me; I love you. No matter how many protests you make, no matter how many times you yell at me, I will have no other for my wife. Do not be afraid of me… please… I meant every word I said when we last spoke. Every word. And I will hold to it. You saw our son! We have a future."

He rubbed soothing circles over the back of her hand, smiling softly, "Our child, meleth. He had your eyes... Can you imagine the handful he is likely to be? You do not have to be afraid of the future, Buffy. Holding yourself back is the surest way to cause yourself the pain you dread. Did you think that I was not afraid? I have fought my destiny for decades, scorning the thought of kingship and holding instead to the patrolling of the wilds and the watch of the Dunedáin of the North, and yet it is upon me anyway, and I am not afraid any more. You need to stop running and come back to me, nín hervess. I hope that I will see you again, but save your prayers for Frodo and Sam."

He looked upon her face, still beautiful despite the hollow shadows of fatigue and the darkening sweep of colourful bruises and scratches, and placed a kiss on her forehead before rising. "Sleep well, meleth." he whispered. "Amin mela lle."

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

She stood in Rath Dínen, under the dead of night. The only light came from the stars above, the moon but a faint sliver in the sky, and everywhere she looked, shadows moved as if they were alive. In a way, she supposed, they were.

She didn't know what she was doing here, couldn't remember where she had been last, though she had the nagging feeling that she should, that it was important. She took a hesitant step forward into the dark, her heavy black skirts rustling as she moved. She turned around in a circle, trying to get her bearings. She had rarely walked the paths of the Silent Street and try as she might, she could not remember the way out. She couldn't even see where she was going. All was dark and still, save for the doorway to her right. It was illuminated by a faint light – she knew not what – that flickered strangely, and it made her skin crawl. She did not want to enter but she did not want to brave the unknown dark either. It seemed to her that she was being watched by silent, unseen enemies. She couldn't remember why that bothered her so much and yet she had no reason to distrust that feeling, so she wavered where she was, unable to go forward or back.

"Your time is over."

She spun around at the sound of his voice. The shadows had parted a bit now and she could see the figure standing in the door, flames clinging to heavily furred robes, casting their flickering light around him with an eerie red glow. Memory came back in a rush of blood and horror, a silent litany of recriminations echoing in her head, and she staggered back a step before regrouping, her hand flying to her abdomen. "Please tell me that I'm not dead and this isn't some kind of special slayer hell?" she said, meeting those maddened eyes squarely but unable to block the flood of images from the moment he ran onto her blade.

"You will be." Denethor promised with a snarl, eyes fixed upon her with unchecked malice.

"Ah, so I'm not dead yet. That's nice. How come I'm not dead again?" Buffy wondered, her voice shaking slightly, "And why are you here tormenting me? And while we're speaking about funky torture methods, maybe you can tell me where the hell I am?

"Murderer!" Denethor spat, taking a step forward, "Fool! You triumph on the field of battle for a day, but against the might of Sauron, you cannot win. The Dark Lord will crush you like vermin underfoot! The race of Men is doomed. There will be no king of Gondor, no puppet for that wizard to use. I am the last ruler of Gondor!"

"Actually, you're really not." Buffy said, "All you are is a figment of my imagination. A very real-looking, creepy figment but definitely in the land of Not Real."

"You were always a murdering whore," Denethor hissed, coming closer, the flames on his robes licking against the stone walls. She could smell the charred flesh now and it nearly made her gag. "Always a spy for that wizard or the Enemy, always treading wherever you were not wanted…"

"You were the one that tried to kill _me_," Buffy said, backing up across the street, stepping further and further back into the darkness. This could not be real, she told herself, he's dead; I shouldn't be afraid of him. Despite her fervent denials, all she could see was the blood staining her hands and running in rivulets down her dress, the maddened, sightless eyes looking right through her; she could feel the resistance of her sword against his ribcage and hear the desperate wheezing of a man who was drowning in his own blood. She couldn't even look at him and not see herself falling down the wrong path like Faith did. It was one thing to kill someone you hated in self-defence; it was another to feel such unbelievable relief that he was dead. What kind of monster did that make her?

Denethor grinned mockingly at her, coughing up dark blood, "And you are the one that slew me." he taunted, "All so that wizard can put a mere ranger on the throne! Did you really think he would ever be a king, you fool? Sauron will kill him and he will die begging for his pain to end and you will die along side him, screaming for mercy."

Buffy squared her shoulders, "Better die screaming beside him than die like a worm with you." She spat. Denethor snarled and shoved her at her in a blind rage, and she instinctively tried to bring her leg up in a roundhouse, only to get caught up in a tangle of skirts. Taking advantage of her surprise, he shoved her back until she collided painfully with the wall, flames licking along her skin where he touched her. She cried out in pain but somehow couldn't summon the strength to throw him off her as he slammed her head into the cold stone.

She sank down to the ground, head spinning, her dress on fire, Denethor's laughter ringing in her ears and a great eye of fire watching her from the door. It seemed to her that everything was very far away, and that sounds were coming to her through a barrier which muffled them but after a minute, she rallied and tried to rouse herself enough to hear them. _You cannot fight every monster, meleth…_

She gasped, focusing on the familiar voice as if it was the only thing tethering her to reality. Aragorn was here with her, somewhere; she could feel him. _I love you_… She looked and looked trying to find him but all she could see around her was fire, burning her alive. _Return… You saw our son! _Their son? What was he talking about? She struggled to make sense of it before a vivid flash of a dark-haired boy came to her and she felt a desperate need fill her. She had to go back. Back where he was and away from this place. She stumbled to her feet, trying to find her way through the flames. The shadow of Denethor was gone, but all she could see was fire, and that Eye, watching her, waiting for her to fall.

She tried to make her way forward, but the flames pushed against her, forcing her back every time, "I can't!" she yelled at the voice, "I'm afraid! It'll kill me!"

_Did you think that I was not afraid?... Stop running… Come back to me…_

She forced herself to stop, to think, to stop giving into panic and to try to figure out where the hell she was and what she was doing here. Her memory felt fragmented, incomplete, but the more she focused, the more came back to her and with a cry of rage, she spun around to face the Eye of the Enemy. "You can't scare me anymore." She said, voice quavering, "You might have hurt me but I'm not dead yet and I will _never_ give in to you!"

_Give me the ring!_ The Eye hissed. _Where is it?!_

"Lost to you forever," Buffy snarled right back, gathering her courage, "No one will ever give it to you. You'll never get it back. Wanna know why? Because you tried to crush this world and you've failed, buddy. Men aren't weak. We're here to stay and we will kick your ass back into whatever pit you climbed out of."

_The Ranger cannot save you!_

"Well, I think he can." Buffy said, "You have no power over me, so get lost!"

_A Ringbearer can never be free! It is mine! They are all mine!_

"Only in your deluded head! Now, GET OUT!!!" she screamed, throwing every shred of strength she had into pushing him out. She could hear him shouting at her even as she forced him out of her head.

_Never be free… bring ruin…. all die! See what you have wrought! _

She came to on her knees in the street, a cold wind chilling her to the core and whipping her hair across her face. Staggering upwards, she clutched to the wall for support, sagging against it in relief. The cries came to her ears then and the wind changed, bringing with it the smell of smoke. Eyes flying open, she saw that she was in a different street and everywhere she looked, people were running, fleeing, screaming as the Minas Tirith burned around their heads. "No…" she whispered, "Not this…"

A man crashed into her, taking them both to the ground in an ungainly heap before he righted himself and hauled Buffy up. "Your Majesty!" he said shortly, "The city is lost! We must get you and the prince out of here?"

She looked at the bloodied man in surprise, "Faramir?" she exclaimed, "What's happened? Where's Aragorn?"

"The King is dead." Faramir replied, scooping up a small boy that was wailing in fear.

"Dead?" Buffy repeated, "How? He can't be dead!"

"He fell on the field, milady. The battle is lost! The city burns! You must go!" Faramir insisted, grabbing her arm and dragging her along as a small ring of guards fell into place around them.

The boy started to cry, "Nana!" he sobbed, reaching for Buffy and she took him instinctively, before staring down at him in surprise as he trustingly snuggled into her arms, clutching the fabric of her dress in one hand.

They ran, Buffy struggling to make sense of this, struggling to make her body turn around and go back, but unable to do so, like she was merely observing herself going through the motions of something already ordained.

They ran until they were cut down, a sharp scimitar biting into her back even as the boy – her son – was killed in front of her, his body thrown at her feet like a broken rag doll. She screamed soundlessly as the darkness took her; this could not be happening! This wasn't real! She had to wake up!

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

The gardens of the Citadel were small but well-tended, normally commanding spectacular views across the Pelennor and towards the Anduin. Today, they gave a clear view of the destruction and chaos borne of the malice of Sauron, and gave an example of the lengths the Enemy would go to to destroy the Free People of Middle Earth. The great wall of the Rammas Echor lay in rubble. Here and there, solitary pieces of stone stood upright or wobbling. Scattered remnants of siege towers and battering rams mingled with downed Mûmakil, all resting on ground stained a curious mixture of red and black in places, singed in others, with very little clear green grass left unscathed. Great mounds of the enemy dead burned, tens of thousands of them, while further out, small detachments of soldiers destroyed the makeshift bridges in Osgiliath before taking up their watch of the ruined city. The light from the fires flickered against the night sky, but Legolas Greenleaf ignored it in favour of seeking out the comfort of the stars above.

Legolas had left Gimli in the care of some of the more rambunctious of Éomer's men, the Dwarf determined to have his share of ale before the armies set out. That had been some hours ago, and Legolas had sought out solitude to dwell on the cares of his heart. He had pushed them aside to focus on the coming battle but now that there was a lull in the constant state of worry and danger, he could ignore them no longer. All day, his thoughts had been drawn to his homeland and his father, filling with a lingering unease that he could not shake. He could not tell what the matter was and could only hope that his adar was well. He could not bear it if some disaster had befallen his home after he had left on such bad terms with him. Even if by some miracle, all was well and Mirkwood had escaped the might of Dol Guldur, how he could return and tell his father that he had heard the gulls at Pelargir? How could he tell Arwen? She and her brothers had never heard the Sea's call, all three having a greater choice to make. Legolas had seen it take some of his people and while he only felt a small draw to the West now, he could not say it would not escalate. And how could he face his father and prove him right? That in going on this quest, he had doomed himself never to feel at ease under the boughs of his home?

He stood staring sightlessly towards the west, so lost in thought that the fact that he was no longer alone did not even register with him until a hand fell on his shoulder.

Reacting instinctively, he spun; dagger unsheathed and had it hovering over the neck of a startled Elrohir before the other Elf could get away. "Easy, meldiren." the Elf in question admonished, "I would not have you explain to my brother why you have gutted me."

"My apologies, Elrohir," Legolas said, sheathing his weapon, "You startled me."

"Obviously." Elrohir replied dryly, "Was there any particular reason you were so far away or were you just contemplating your next victim?"

"I am not in the mood for jesting this night," Legolas said, "What do you want?"

"That is good, Greenleaf," Elladan said, taking a seat on the stone bench nearby, "For what we want from you is no jesting matter indeed."

Elrohir nodded, crossing his arms and glaring sternly, "What, exactly, are your intentions toward our sister?" he demanded.

"Oh, by the stars! You want to discuss this _now_?" Legolas exclaimed, eyeing the two Elves in plain disbelief, "We march for Mordor tomorrow, and you want to speak of this _now_? Even were I in the mood to deal with this now, I would never discuss Arwen with you until I have actually seen her."

"We are her brothers. Her only brothers, I might add." Elrohir said, somewhat menacingly, "Would you rather have this discussion with Lord Elrond, Thranduilion, or perhaps our grandparents?"

"You do not intimidate me, Peredhel;" Legolas returned in kind, "All I will say is that absolutely nothing is settled between us. We have not met since the Fellowship left Rivendell, when Arwen was still publicly betrothed to Aragorn, a fact you well know, and even if you did not, I resent being accused of being careless towards your sister – an elleth of considerable repute who is well aware of her own mind – as if I was some drunken lout from Bree! Whither you will it or no, I am the Prince of Mirkwood and the only peoples to slander my name have been grudge-bearing Dwarves and orcs! I love Arwen Undómiel and if you have something against me for that, you are not the friends I thought you were! Does that satisfy you?!"

The twins were taken aback by this outburst from the usually private prince, who was quite clearly irate and about thirty seconds away from losing his temper and giving them a first hand demonstration of exactly how much of Thranduil's famous temper Legolas had inherited. Sharing an approving glance, they both held their hands up in a placating gesture.

"Peace, Legolas." Elladan said, "We did not mean to impugn your honour or accuse you of any impropriety. We do know you and your character, mellon, and we honestly could not think of a better match for Arwen, but she _is_ our only sister, and thus we had to ask. We did not mean to imply any slur, only whether you have made up your mind as how to approach her."

Legolas glared at them stonily for a long minute before accepting their explanation as sincere and calming down, fists unclenching and the fiery glint in his bright eyes dimming some. "Next time, gwenyn," he said silkily, "I suggest you ask Lord Erestor for some tips on negotiating such an undertaking. If this had been a treaty of any kind, you would have just destroyed it."

"Well, admittedly, we did not intend to rile you." Elrohir explained ruefully, "In our defence, we are so used to chasing off Arwen's suitors that that question tends to come out rather tersely."

Legolas shot the younger one a look that plainly stated that he thought Elrohir was a dunce, before arching an eyebrow at them. "So, since I obviously merit such trust and esteem instead of being relegated to the ranks of your sister's suitors, and you say that you have no intention of insulting me, why did you just repeat the question using gentler words?"

"There is no need to act like your adar in a snit, Greenleaf." Elladan said, "We are only asking you what you are planning to do before our adars, and the Lady Galadriel descend on you with wedding plans, and visions of your happy little elflings. Think on that for a moment."

Legolas did, and promptly blanched. "Oh Eru, they would not. My father would never… no, he would. Lady _Galadriel_?"

"Loves matchmaking." Elrohir supplied helpfully, "And with naneth in Aman, she would be the one usurping adar's right to plan and plot over the binding of his only daughter and her only granddaughter. I have seen her scheme with ada. It is not something to jest about. It can get very… intense."

"But I have not even spoken to Arwen!" Legolas exclaimed, beginning to pace back and forth, "Her troth with Aragorn was scarcely ended before the Fellowship left… They would not expect us to… oh dear Eru!"

Elladan and Elrohir shared a conspiratorial glance before each wrapping an arm around the newly stricken prince's shoulders, "Come, Greenleaf," Elrohir said, "And let us help you outwit our Elders, because I assure you, that when this war is over, Arwen will be waiting and if you wish to see her before our dear adar swoops in to interrogate you and Thranduil exerts his no doubt fantastic revenge for your little escape attempt, you had better have a plan of attack."

"I thought this was a relationship, not a battle." Legolas protested.

Elladan only laughed, "Oh, my poor, naïve little friend. No matter how much he likes you, do you really think adar is going to pass up any opportunity to torture you after the slight… strain in diplomatic relations with the Dwarves on your last sojourn to our lovely home?"

"That was all your idea!" the Wood-Elf protested indignantly.

"I did not see you objecting at the time." He replied. "So, come on, and let us enlighten you on their plans, and yes, they have plans. Large ones, actually and quite elaborate. You see, it all started a few years ago when they realised that Buffy was partial to Aragorn and they decided that you were quite the suitable ellon for our dear Evenstar and well, from there, things…"

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

A blinding light blasted through the street then and when it was gone, she was alone and unharmed; no blood anywhere and the sounds of a city in its death throws were gone. Startled, she looked around. She was in what looked to be a sitting room of some kind. It was definitely Minas Tirith, she could tell but what held her attention was the mirror on the far well, and the reflection within it.

It was her; she knew it was her, but different. The figure in the mirror was dressed richly, was slender and short, but her face – Buffy's face – held the weight of many more years upon it and upon close inspection, she could see the faint threads of silver in her golden hair. Cautiously, she drew a hand up to her face and the figure in the mirror followed her movements exactly. Cursing, she took a step back, looking around for danger. Things didn't look particularly bad, but then again, she wasn't in a trusting mood after her previous encounters. Exactly when did she get to wake up anyway? If somebody's little drugging habits were keeping her under, she swore they were going to feel her wrath as soon as she could manage it, and it wouldn't be pretty.

The door swung open and Buffy jumped. "Buffy?" Elladan said softly, coming into the room, "It is time."

"Time?" Buffy repeated dumbly but the Elf only caught hold of her arm and gently tugged her into another room and once there, she forgot everything else.

Aragorn lay on a bed, his face lined and his hair was completely silver. Her feet carried her to him of their own accord until she was at his bedside, one of his hands clutched in both of hers. "Aragorn?" she murmured.

He smiled and tugged one of his hands free, bringing it up to caress her cheek. At his urging, she sat down on the edge of the bed to be closer to him. "It is my time, meleth." He said as Elladan tactfully exited the room, and Buffy, looking at his tired figure, knew exactly what he meant.

"You are not going anywhere, do you hear me?" she said fiercely, "No one is dying today!"

"It is not ours to judge, Buffy." Aragorn said softly, drawing her down to him, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes, "It is the doom of all Men."

"Well, tell them to take it back and shove it!" Buffy insisted, voice wobbling in a must humiliating fashion. "You can't leave…"

They argued back and forth for a while until Buffy could see that her protests were hurting him and she could not bring herself to fight with him any longer. They cried and they laughed and Aragorn saw all those dear to him one last time before he lay back down and taking her hand in his, they said goodbye for the last time. And when he passed, she cried and cried and cried, hearing his final words echoing in her head until the gentle hands of Arwen tugged her away, speaking in a soothing manner and comforting her with words and body. It was like she could not breathe; a thousand times worse than she had ever felt when Angel had left; it felt like she was going to die.

It was only when she truly understood how people could die of a broken heart that the pain faded away, along with the comforting murmur of family and friends and the mourning of Minas Tirith.

Was this a warning or some remnant of Sauron's malice? It certainly was not the first time that she had had dreams of a possible future and nearly every one of them had been a disaster. Still, she could not rid herself of the nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, this time it would be worth it. Aragorn's voice seemed to be on constant repeat in her head, - _I love you_. Could she really justify forcing Aragorn away anymore? The world was a harsh place for warriors, and nothing came with a Happily Ever After guarantee. Maybe it was time to take a leap of faith… but she couldn't exactly say that everything was flowers and puppies.

With Angel, the pain had pierced to the heart, had made it hard to breathe. But however intense their love was, she had been a girl and they had only known each other a couple of years before he walked right out of her life. Now, she was a woman, with a woman's depth of heart, and she had loved Aragorn for decades. If she allowed herself to tip over the edge and give into that love, there would be no going back. Whatever it cost her.

She was honest enough with herself to admit if Aragorn were only a ranger of the north, she would not have hesitated this long. But she could not forget that Aragorn wasn't a lesser man; he was a descendent of Númenor, Isildur's Heir and the soon-to-be King of Gondor. His destiny was to sit on the throne of Men, while hers… well, it had mostly consisted of battling evil, dying young and taking orders from stuffy Watcher guys from England. Yeah, what a match. She was sure that all the Lords and Ladies of Gondor would either die of laughter or have multiple heart attacks at the thought of him being in love with her.

Could she really be a lady of the court? Without causing a few dozen wars? Could she really deal with being penned in just because of Aragorn's station? She tossed out every negative that would come with it and each and every one was being happily struck down by Impractical Buffy, who was busy shouting a litany of 'I love him and he loves me!' with an addition of cooing over the child she had seen. Their child.

Aragorn was gonna be a king. It kinda went without saying that he would need an heir, and if she married him, a baby would definitely be involved. She honestly wasn't sure what she felt about that. Could slayers even get pregnant? What kind of a mommy debated the merits of the crossbow versus the longbow instead of which cartoon was more child-friendly? However, she couldn't deny the thrill she had felt when she had first seen that little boy and known him as hers. Who knew? Maybe this was the chance for a normal life? Well, as much of a normal life as she was likely to get.

_Marry me…_

What was she going to do?

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**A/N: **So? Opinions please? Fluffy enough? Enjoy it while you can 'cos you know it never lasts with me! Please **READ** and **REVIEW**!!!!

_Next chapter: _Sauron's plans advance… some Éowyn/Faramir interaction… Minas Tirith gets some unexpected guests… and Buffy gets to actually be awake.

_Elvish:_

Meleth - love

nín hervess – my wife

Amin mela lle – I love you

Adar – father

Meldiren – my friend

Thranduilion – Son of Thranduil

Peredhel – Half-Elf

Elleth – Elf-maiden

Mellon – friend

Gwenyn – twins

Naneth - mother

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_Aman _- also called the Blessed Realm, Valinor or the Undying Lands. Home of the Elves in the West.

_Dol Guldur _- 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned.

_Imrahil _- Prince of Dol Amroth at the time of the War of the Ring. The line of the Princes of Dol Amroth is said to be of Elvish descent, a foremother being a Silvan Elf and a handmaiden of the Elleth Nimrodel of Lórien. Father of Lothíriel. Denethor's brother-in-law. Uncle to Faramir and Boromir.

_Númenor _- Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.

_Osgiliath _- Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

_Palantír _- one of the seven seeing stones that were scattered throughout Gondor and Arnor during the reign of Elendil. For the last few centuries, they have been considered unsafe to use as it is believed that one of them is in the possession of Sauron.

_Pelennor fields _- 'Fenced Land'. The 'town lands' of Minas Tirith. Guarded by the wall of Rammas Echor.

_Rammas Echor _- out-wall. For ten leagues or so it ran, from the mountains' feet and back again, enclosing in its fence the fields of the Pelennor.

_Rath Dínen _- 'The Silent Street' in Minas Tirith, where the tombs of the dead Kings and Stewards are.

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